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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/collegeadministr01thwi 






AMERICAN COLLEGES: THEIR STUDENTS 
AND WORK. 



WITHIN COLLEGE WALLS. 
THE COLLEGE WOMAN. 



THE AMERICAN COLLEGE IN AMERICAN 
LIFE. 



THE CHOICE OF A COLLEGE FOR A BOY. 
COLLEGE ADMINISTRATION. 



COLLEGE 
ADMINISTRATION 



COLLEGE 
ADMINISTRATION 



CHARLES Fr'THWING, LL.D. 

PRESIDENT OF WESTERN RESERVE UNIVERSITY AND 
ADELBERT COLLEGE 




NEW YORK 

^be Century Co. 

1900 



49G06 

I '^^ Cup.ti Recti ^ED 
' SEP ,80 1900 

Copynghf entry 

I stcoKP copy. 

I Ot;l(Wtf«J ta 

OftOt« DIVISION, 
L0CL9 I9UU 






No 



Copyright, 1900, by 
The Century Co. 



The DeVinne Press 



TO 

CHARLES W. ELIOT, LL.D., 
THE GREAT PRESIDENT 



PREFATORY NOTE 

This is, I think, the first book 
published on the administration 
of the American college. It grows 
out of my own reflection, work, 
experience, and reading. Many 
limitations, of course, rest upon it. 
It makes its special appeal, too, 
to a small constituency. But this 
constituency, although small, is 
of great influence in all funda- 
mental relations. Its subject, too, 
is of unique value in the endeavor 
to relate the American college 
and university more vitally to 
American life. C. F. T. 



Western Reserve University, 
Cleveland. 



I 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I Introduction: The Organization op Amer- 
ican Education 1 

II The Constitution of the American College 21 

III The College President 49 

IV Special Conditions and Methods op Adminis- 

tration 85 

V The Government op Students . . .113 

VI Financial Relations 155 

VII Administrative and Scholastic Problems op 

the Twentieth Century .... 261 

Index 317 



1 

INTRODUCTION: THE ORGANIZATION 
OF AMERICAN EDUCATION 



I 



COLLEGE ADMINISTRATION 

I 

INTRODUCTION: THE ORGANIZATION 
OF AMERICAN EDUCATION 

EDUCATION in the United States is not so 
much disorganized as it is unorganized. It is 
not so much unorganized as it is the subject of 
cross and various organizations. It is in certain 
relations overorganized. The units of organiza- 
tion are many, diverse, and often cover identical 
conditions. The national unit is lacking, unless 
one should desire to call the Bureau of Education 
such a unit. Yet the designation would not be 
fitting, for the function of the Bureau is largely 
limited to the collection and distribution of in- 
formation. It has no power to enforce its sugges- 
tions, and its directions are largely suggestions. 
Each State is an educational unit. By its constitu- 
tion, or bill of rights or legislation, are determined 
the educational conditions and practices which ob- 
tain within its boundaries. In certain States the 
county plays a large educational part, but in other 
States, and especially in the older and Eastern, 
the county seldom exercises educational functions. 

I 



The Organisation of American Education 

Each town or municipality represents a third cen- 
ter in which the educational interests unite and 
whence they radiate. In each town or city, too, 
each school district represents a center ; and, also, 
each school and each room in each school stands 
for a point of information and of instruction. 
Such coordinated relationships obtain largely in 
the public-school system. By the side of them all 
are found the private school and academy, the col- 
lege, the university, and the professional school, 
each still deriving its corporate power and right of 
administration from the commonwealth. 

And yet, although these conditions seem simple 
enough, closer inspection reveals various cross- 
divisions and complex relations. We have high 
schools that do the work of grammar schools, and 
grammar schools that do the work of the first year 
of the high school. We have high schools that do a 
part, at least, of the work of colleges, and we have 
also colleges that are willing to do a part of the work 
properly belonging to the fitting-schools. We have 
colleges that in their last year are essentially pro- 
fessional schools, and we have also universities that 
have only one department, and that the college; 
and also be it added, we have universities that are 
rather schools preparatory to the college than col- 
leges or universities themselves. President Gilman 
has said : " Poor and feeble schools, sometimes in- 
tended for the destitute, beg support on the ground 
that they are universities. The name has been 
given to a school of arts and trades, to a school of 
modern languages, and to a school in which only 

2 



The Organisation of American Education 

primary studies are taught. Not only so, but many 
graduates of old and conservative institutions, if 
we may judge from recent writings, are at sea. 
There are those who think a university can be 
made by so christening it; others who suppose 
that the gift of a million is the only requisite ; it is 
often said that the establishment of four faculties 
constitutes a university ; there is a current notion 
that a college without a religion is a university; 
and another that a college without a curriculum is 
a university. I have even read in the newspapers 
the description of a building which ' will be, when 
finished, the finest university in the country ' ; and 
I know of a school for girls, the trustees of which 
not only have the power to confer all degrees, but 
may designate a board of lady managers possessing 
the same powers." (" University Problems," p. 85.) 

"We have polytechnic or scientific schools pur- 
posing to give a liberal education, and not a pro- 
fessional, and we have also colleges of liberal 
culture establishing technical courses. We have 
professional schools apart from any college or uni* 
versity, and we have them also as a part of a 
university. Such are some of the relations of an 
organization which might be called overorganized 
or badly organized, rather than unorganized. It 
might be said that the organization is such that it 
results in disorganization. 

But, bad as the organization or lack of organiza- 
tion of American schools may be, the lack of organ- 
ization in English schools is incomparably worse 
The beginning of the nineteenth century found 

3 



The Organisation of American Education 

elementary education in England absolutely with- 
out system. The course of the century has wit- 
nessed the introduction of various systems which 
have, in certain relations, kept pace with the im- 
provement and the moral elevation of the schools. 
But the close of the century still finds English 
education controlled and subjected to the evils of 
a lack of organization, and to all the other evils of 
manifold systems The established and the non- 
conformist, the board and the voluntary, the local 
and the national, the elementary and the secon- 
dary elements represent the educational condition 
and forces which are inextricably mingled and 
commingled. Compromise has been the rule of 
educational progress in England far more than in 
AmxCrica; and compromise has resulted, as is not 
unusual, in confusion. 

In Germany the opposite method has, on the 
whole, prevailed. In the present century the 
state, and the state alone, has been the controlling 
power in the education of the people. Before this 
century the church was the controlling force. To- 
day the power of the church in education is 
manifested through the state and through the 
universities, and not through the church's own 
methods. The university affords theological train- 
ing, and the university is in the power of the state, 
and the state therefore prescribes the course of re- 
ligious training in the schools. The rule of the 
state has resulted in uniformity. 

American education should have a center in 
which every purpose for its promotion may be local- 

4 



The Organisation of American Education 

ized, and from which every plan for its develop- 
ment may rise. This center is found in the being 
of the child himself. The child himself is the 
smallest unit in education, and he is also the great- 
est. The unit which may be suggested either by 
taxation or by partizanship, by the tenure of office 
of the teacher or by the splendor of the educational 
machinery, by geographical considerations or by 
similarity of intellectual conditions, is of no value 
whatsoever in comparison with the worth of the 
child. The only unit deserving of mention in com- 
parison with the worth of the child lies in the pur- 
pose of the promotion of knowledge. For the higher 
education is organized, and should be organized, not 
only for the human purpose of training humanity, 
but for the scholastic purpose of extending the 
bounds of knowledge. 

As one thinks of the organization of education 
about the student, several points, among many, 
become significant. The content of his study, the 
method of his study, the atmosphere of his study, 
and the personality of the teacher are of supreme 
and ultimate importance. But of them I shall write 
chiefly of the worth of the content of study and of 
the personality of the teacher. 

The content of the study of the student before 
the age of entering college must be largely descrip- 
tive and interpretative. This content relates to the 
acquisition of knowledge. This knowledge is sim- 
ply descriptive and interpretative of the facts of the 
material world and of life. Arithmetic, for instance, 
is simply interpretative of time, and geometry is 

5 



The Organisation of American Education 

an interpretation or description of space; gram- 
mar is a description of the way in which the best 
people talk; history is a description of what the 
world of men has done, and science is a description 
of the world of nature. This period of descrip- 
tion belongs to the acquisitive period of a student's 
career. It leads into, and in its higher ranges is 
touched by, the method of comparison. The col- 
lege is the means or the method of the comparative 
process and condition in education. Of course, the 
former method of description still thrusts its way 
into the field of comparative knowledge. The first 
year of the college is much like the last year of the 
high school or academy; the second year is less 
like it ; and in the last two years the method of 
comparison quite supplants the method of acquisi- 
tion of the earlier time. The comparative method 
is at once the deductive and the inductive method, 
and it is more than either deduction or induction. 
In the comparative stages of the college course the 
student relates truth to truth, fact to fact, not only 
in one or the same field, but also in different fields. 
Truths which once appeared as far apart as the poles 
now become closely and vitally associated. Geog- 
raphy, which once seemed to him a science apart 
from man, is now known to hold essential relations 
to history. Ethnography, which once seemed a 
study quite apart from geology, is seen to hold a 
relation of cause and effect to geology. Psychology 
and philosophy are seen to exist in intimate asso- 
ciation with the sciences of biology and of physics, 
and biology and physics are found to exist in close 

6 



The Organisation of American Education 

relations with psychology and philosophy. The 
different sciences themselves, too, prove to be in 
close relationship. Biology is closely related to 
chemistry. Chemistry, in turn, is found to be re- 
lated no less closely to geology. In the earlier 
stages of his education the student was concerned 
with facts; he is now concerned with relations. 
In the earlier stages he was concerned with acquisi- 
tion, with description, and with interpretation; 
in the later stages he is concerned primarily with 
comparisons. In the earlier stages the simple truth 
was primary and the relations of different truths 
secondary. In the later stages the relations of 
different truths is of primary, and the truth itself 
of secondary, value. 

But there is a third stage in the organization of 
American education about the student. This stage 
may be called that of research. The student be- 
comes himself a discoverer of the truth. The sec- 
ond stage of comparison passes into the third stage 
of enlargement. He himself is concerned not only 
with relations, but also with the discovery of rela- 
tions. He is concerned, as in the first stage, with 
the knowledge of facts, but he is also concerned, 
and more, with the discovery of facts for himself. 
This third stage belongs to the scholar par excel- 
lence. Into it only a few ultimately pass. Here 
are found those searchers for truth and for 
truths, few in number in any generation, but 
which, though few, are of the most essential value 
for the promotion of knowledge and for the better- 
ment of the nation and of humanity. 

7 



The Organisation of American Education 

When the student is able to perceive relations 
he may be said to be educated. The training 
up to this stage has been general. He is now 
fitted to enter upon his special education for 
rendering service to that form of humanity to 
which he proposes to devote himself. He has not 
become fitted for the ministry, but he has become 
fitted to begin to fit for the ministry. He has not 
become fitted for the law, but he has become fitted 
to fit for the law. He has not become fitted for 
medicine, he cannot practise the art of healing, but 
he has become fitted to fit himseK to become a doc- 
tor. The special professional study awaits him. 

The age at which the student is able to begin his 
professional studies or career is of serious impor- 
tance when one locates the unit of American edu- 
cation in the student himself. This age has been 
increasing. The age of graduating from college has 
gradually increased throughout the century. In 
1856 the average age of admission to Harvard Col- 
lege was seventeen years seven and three six- 
teenths months. In 1866 it had increased to 
eighteen years two and five twelfths months, and 
in 1875 it had increased to eighteen years six 
and two thirds months. In the last ten years for , 
most colleges eighteen and a half years represents 
the average age at admission to the freshman 
class. (President Eliot's Report for 1874-75, p. 8.) 
The cause of this condition lies, in part, in the 
enlargement of the conditions for admission which 
the colleges are now laying down. These con- 
ditions have vastly enlarged both in the number 



The Organisation of American Education 

of the subjects prescribed and in the knowledge 
required of each subject. A more extended know- 
ledge of Latin and of Greek is demanded, and 
also at least an elementary knowledge of one 
or two modern languages and of the physical 
sciences. These conditions have been so increased 
that the high schools and academies have in 
thirty years lengthened their course from three 
years to four. In the same period has occurred a 
lengthening of the course of the medical college 
and of the law school, in the one case from two 
or three years to four and in the other from two 
years to three. The college is in danger of being 
ground to pieces between the under millstone of 
the preparatory school and the upper millstone of 
the professional school. 

In the organization of American education, there- 
fore, about the student, the question becomes of 
importance respecting the time in which the stu- 
dent ceases to be a student and becomes an active 
worker in American life. Various methods for 
securing the important result of an earlier en- 
trance into his career have been suggested. One 
of these methods is to make the last years of the 
college course, at least in part, an equivalent to the 
first years of the professional course. In certain 
cases the last year of the college course becomes 
practically identical with the first year of the pro- 
fessional course. In other cases certain studies 
are taken by the senior in college which are also 
taken by the first-year man in the professional 
school, and these studies are allowed to count 



The Organisation of American Education 

toward both the bachelor's degree and the profes- 
sional degree. By this method the student in the 
law school can receive his degree of Bachelor of 
Laws in six years, and the student in the medical 
college can receive his degree of Doctor of Medicine 
in seven years. This method obtains in several of 
the more historic and more conspicuous of our 
colleges. A few colleges, and good ones too, are 
intimating that the whole educational period may 
be shortened by yet an additional year, giving two 
degrees to the law student in five, and to the medi- 
cal student in six, years. It is to be said that a year 
in one's life and in one's professional career is of 
great value, and it is also to be said, and with 
emphasis, that a single year is not of value in com- 
parison with the value of one's professional service. 
It is far better to enrich the value of that service 
than to lengthen out the time of that, service by a 
few months. But in order to secure the purpose 
of an earlier entrance into his life's work for the 
college-bred man a better method than that of the 
duplication of a single year lies in the endeavor to 
save a year or two years in the earlier stages of 
education. A year is a year whether it be the 
seventh or the seventeenth. The battle for an 
earlier entrance into life is to be fought on the 
floor of the grammar and primary school-room. 
The question is how to get the student out of the 
grammar school earlier by a year or two years 
rather than how to get him sooner out of college. 
The simple fact is that the work of the eight years 
of the primary and grammar schools could still 

10 



The Organisation of American Education 

be done with ease in six years in the case of many- 
students. If the student enter the public schools 
at the age of six he should be able to enter the 
high school at the , age of twelve; if he enter the 
high school at the age of twelve, as he should, he 
should enter the college at the age of sixteen; if 
he should leave college at the age of twenty, at 
the age of twenty- three or twenty-four he should 
be and would be ready for life's career. As says 
Professor Greorge Trumbull Ladd, in writing of a 
modern liberal education : " The ten years from six 
to sixteen are enough, and more than enough, to 
prepare the average mind for the most exacting of 
our American colleges. But alas ! how much of 
this time is wasted, and worse than merely wasted, 
by the poor teaching that prevails in the interme- 
diate schools." (" The Higher Education," p. 135.) 
Such a reduction could be accomplished largely 
by lessening the attention paid to certain studies 
in the earlier grades. Chief among these is arith- 
metic. Arithmetic is an abstract science to chil- 
dren. The operations of arithmetic are to the 
child's mind arbitrary. To his mind these opera- 
tions have little of the rational. If the study of 
arithmetic could be deferred till the age of ten, 
and then only two years devoted to it, all that is 
necessary to be learned or to be done could be ac- 
complished with ease and efficiency. This saving 
of time not only in arithmetic, but also in other 
studies, could be effected by securing better- 
trained teachers. Teachers of good training ac- 
complish results vastly superior to those accom- 

II 



The Organisation of American Education 

plished by tlie ill-trained teacher, in a briefer time 
and with less taxing of the energies of the child. 

Aside from the question of the reduction of the 
age of the pupil, the securing of better-trained 
teachers represents the most serious problem in 
American education. That the teacher is becom- 
ing better trained is evident. In all the better high 
schools only those teachers who are college-bred 
are employed. The college-bred teachers also are 
entering the grammar schools and the primary. 
We ought to hasten the time when every teacher 
should be liberally trained. No discipline is too 
fine, no culture too rich, no resources are too ample, 
to be devoted to the education of the smallest 
child or the smallest collection of children. 

Professor Ladd, in writing of the fitting-schools, 
also says: "One thing greatly to be desired 
and striven after, as affording needed relief to 
the preparatory schools, is an improvement in the 
primary education. No one acquainted with the 
facts needs to be told how faulty is the knowledge 
of the most elementary subjects possessed by the 
average child of twelve or fourteen, whether he 
has been trained in a public or a private school. 
How blundering is his use, in speech, reading, or 
writing, of his mother-tongue ! With how little 
real notion of what our good planet is, in struc- 
ture and aspect, has he learned long lists of un- 
pronounceable names of mountains, rivers, and 
cities — not to say hamlets and villages ! For how 
many years has he struggled with the fundamental 
mysteries of number, and spent his time weari- 

12 



The Organi:{ation of American Education 

somely doing ' sums,' the like of which are not to 
be found in real life upon this earth, and, as we 
trust, not in the heavens above ! " (" The Higher 
Education," p. 61.) 

At this point enters the question of cost. Of 
course, good teaching costs, and ought to cost. 
The best teaching is yet the cheapest; and the 
poorest teaching is the highest. Humanity is 
learning that it is better economy to devote the 
larger share of its revenues to the education of 
children in the beginning of their lives rather than 
to expend it for the care of the criminal, the de- 
fective, and the pauper through a score of years. 

It is to be said, moreover, that the teacher is to 
receive a professional training. The professional 
education of the teacher is as important as the pro- 
fessional education of the lawyer or the doctor or 
the minister. American life is reaching this con- \ 
elusion. The opinion that all that is necessary for 
the teaching of any subject is to know that subject 
is still held by some great scholars and teachers, 
but it is obsolescent. As the professional educa- 
tion of the lawyer and of the doctor is a contribu- 
tion of the present century, so the professional 
education of the teacher is to be one of the worthi- 
est contributions of the new century to human 
affairs. But the professional education of the 
teacher differs in many respects from the profes- 
sional education of the lawyer or the doctor. The 
lawyer or the doctor or the minister becomes, 
through the professional school, trained in the 
knowledge of his subject. The lawyer learns law, 

13 



The Organisation of American Education 

the doctor learns medicine, and the minister learns 
theology. The professional training of the teacher 
is not the securing of the knowledge of his subject. 
This knowledge he already is supposed to possess. 
If he is to be trained to teach geometry or Latin 
or Grreek or French or philosophy, he is supposed 
to know geometry or Latin or Grreek or French or 
philosophy. His training as a teacher is a train- 
ing in the methods of teaching. In order to train 
him to present geometry properly to a class, he is 
supposed to know geometry before he enters into 
the professional school to get a training to teach 
geometry. At this point, it may be added, the 
current prejudice against normal schools has its 
origin, for the normal school has tried to teach 
both the content of knowledge and the method of 
teaching that knowledge. The normal school has 
tried to make at once scholars and teachers. In 
certain cases the normal school, receiving students 
ill instructed, has not tried to teach the subject, 
but, dealing with the student as if he knew the 
subject when he did not, and trying to train him 
in the method of teaching a subject of which he 
knew nothing, the normal school has added to 
ignorance confusion and to confusion distress ! 

As education improves, and as society develops, 
we are to see the department of education in the 
college enlarge. For this department will receive 
only those who possess the content of the knowledge 
of the various subjects which they are to teach and 
who come to this department in order to receive sim- 
ply a better professional and technical equipment. 

14 



The Organisation of American Education 

Both in the college and out of the college, it is 
to be remembered that far more important than 
technical training is professional knowledge, and 
more important than professional knowledge is 
general education, and more important than gen- 
eral education is personality. Most educational 
directors, in search of a grammar-school teacher, 
would prefer to accept the college graduate without 
the technical training of the normal school than to 
take a high- school graduate who has had the 
normal-school course. And it is also true that 
most educational directors would prefer to receive 
as a teacher one who has or is a great character, 
who has or is a great spirit, untouched by the train- 
ing of the college, than to receive one whose powers 
are commonplace, even if endowed with the advan- 
tages of a college training. 

The higher education, as well as the lower, is to 
be organized about the unit of the individual stu- 
dent. To equip him for life is the supreme pur- 
pose. In this adjustment of American education 
about the student there are developing three types , 
of the American college. One of these is the college 
that depends upon the church for support ; another 
is that which depends upon the individual or the 
general community for support ; and the third type 
is that which depends upon the State for support. 
The first type is the ordinary denominational col- 
lege. The second type is the large and common 
college, such as Columbia or Harvard. The third 
type is that of the ordinary State university. 
The second of these types is Christian, but it is 

15 



The Organisation of American Education 

not denominational. It leans upon the commu- 
nity, but not upon the commonwealth. These 
three types are not, however, as distinct as might 
at first thought appear. The denominational col- 
lege often holds intimate relations to individuals 
outside of a particular church, and also, for more 
than two hundred years, the denominational college 
has drawn aid from the commonwealth. Colleges, 
too, which rest upon the unorganized community or 
upon individuals have received aid from the State. 
Cornell has been, and is, the recipient of large 
revenues from the State of New York. Colleges, 
too, which are an integral part of the public educa- 
tion of the State, have been aided to a greater or 
less extent by individuals. Michigan has received 
funds from private sources, and a few years ago 
the University of Minnesota received a gift which 
was used in the erection of a building bearing the 
name of a benefactor, Pillsbury Hall. 

Each of these types and methods has its advan- 
tages. The denominational college represents the 
intimacy of the relation existing between re- 
ligion and learning, a relation historic and vital. 
The individual college stands for independence, 
a most precious condition for the promotion 
of scholarship and for the development of char- 
acter. The State college or State university em- 
bodies the idea that the whole body of the people 
is concerned in the securing of a sufiicient number 
of well-trained citizens to insure the efficiency and 
perpetuity of the State. No one type need fully 
exclude the others, and the three are found co- 

i6 



The Organisation of American Education 

existing in not a few of the commonwealths. It 
may be said that these types are only forms of 
what we call the "American university" as the 
American university itself is one of the several 
types of the university. For the English univer- 
sity is unlike the Scotch, the Scotch is unlike the 
German, the German is unlike the French, and 
each of them is unlike the American. 



17 



JM 



II 

THE CONSTITUTION OF THE 
AMERICAN COLLEGE 



II 

THE CONSTITUTION OF THE 
AMERICAN COLLEGE 

THE organization of the American college is 
simple. In most States the organization is ' 
made under the general law applying to incorpo- 
rated societies. The essential part of the organiza- 
tion is the legal body which usually calls itself ' 
Trustees. The body which is usually called the 
Faculty has to do with giving instruction and per- 
forming the work for doing which the college was 
created. In association with the legal body is 
sometimes found a second one, frequently known 
as the Board of Overseers; but the institutions 
having this second body are few. The Board of 
Trust and the Faculty are the two bodies to which 
is generally committed the administration of the 
college. The Board of Trust is usually, though 
not always, a close corporation. Its members : 
choose their own successors. When it is not a 
close corporation, elections to it are made, as a 
rule, wholly or largely by the graduates of the col- 
lege. If the college, however, is denominational, 
and has intimate affiliations with a church of a 

21 



The ConsUtution of the American College 

rather strict form of government, tlie church itself 
not infrequently chooses or nominates certain mem- 
bers for this Board. This intimacy of ecclesiastical 
relationship is found more frequently in the Episco- 
pal and Presbyterian and Methodist communions. 
The members of the Board of Trust are seldom less 
than seven nor more than twenty- five. The duties 
of this Board relate to the care of the property put 
into its keeping, and also to the giving of legal 
\ value to the acts of the Faculty. The Board of 
f Trust confers degrees ; it fixes salaries ; it deter- 
I mines the budget of each year ; it holds and con- 
trols all investments. The nature of the duties 
that belong to this Board of Trust vary, of course, 
somewhat in different colleges. It may be said 
that usually their authority is supreme, yet this 
authority they seldom see fit to use arbitrarily. 
Their decision is ultimate, yet usually they trust 
the Faculty. In its last analysis the management 
I of a college rests absolutely in the Board of Trust. 
To this Board the Faculty and students are re- 
sponsible. 

Though the function of the Board of Trust is 
thus definitive, yet it is to the second body that 
the fulfilment of the great purposes for which 
a college exists is committed. To the members 
j of the Faculty the work of instruction is, of course, 
I given. The duty of discipline is theirs. The 
proper ordering of the various relations of the 
students belongs to them. All that makes up 
the daily routine of the college represents their 
constant and immediate responsibility. To their 

22 



The Constitution of the American College 

college work they give themselves. College service 
represents their profession. The Faculty in certain 
colleges includes all those who give instruction. In 
other colleges it includes only those who are chosen 
to permanent chairs, excluding those whose ap- 
pointments are for a year or for a term of years. 
The members are chosen to this body under a 
great variety of conditions. 

The methods of choosing represent so important 
a part of college order, and are so diverse, that I 
shall indicate what methods do control in various 
colleges. The statement descriptive of the method 
is usually made by the President of the college. 

In Yale University : " In the matter of the ap- 
pointment of professors, our custom— not our writ- 
ten law, but our long-established custom— is that 
the Faculty of the departments (scientific, theo- 
logical, or whatever department of the university) 
in which the new professor is to act nominates 
him to the Corporation, and the Corporation ap- 
points him to the office. They may, of course, 
decline to appoint him if they see fit. The matter 
of nomination is in the hands of the Faculty, the ! 
matter of election is in the hands of the Corpora- 
tion. In most of our New England colleges the 
whole power of nomination is in the hands of the 
President ; he may not consult the Faculty at all. 
It is not so with us." 

In Williams College : " When we are selecting a 
new member of our Faculty, if it is a professor we 
want, I consult with men interested in the same \ 
department, and mention a name and act with 

23 



The Constitution of the American College 

their approbation. If it is an instructor we want, 
I generally do the same." 

In Dartmouth College : " In securing a new mem- 
ber of the Faculty, the President advises with the 
department concerned, and then puts the matter 
before the Committee on Instruction in the Board 
of Trustees. The Trustees vote upon the recom- 
mendation of this Committee." 

In Brown University : " The President nominates 
the candidate or suggests several ; then the Advisory 
and Executive Committee discuss the merits of the 
candidates, one or more, and vote to recommend to 
the Corporation. This is equivalent to an election, 
as the Board never rejects a nomination thus made." 

In Columbia College : " Ordinarily the President 
) takes the initiative in securing a new member of 
any of our faculties. I am," says President Low, 
"in the habit of conferring freely with all those 
more directly interested in the appointment to be 
made, so as to be sure that the person called shall 
be persona grata. When I am satisfied that I am 
on the track of the right man, I try to ascertain 
whether he would accept such a call as I have in 
mind. I always seek a personal interview, if pos- 
sible, as I am reluctant to have any man appointed 
to any position in connection with the university 
whom I have not looked in the face. Of course, I 
never seek a personal interview until after a very 
careful inquiry. When I am satisfied upon all the 
, points involved, I submit a nomination to the 
Trustees, who act upon it with or without refer- 
ence to the Committee on Education as the case 

24 



The Constitution of the American College 

may demand. I often confer informally with the 
members of the Committee on Education of the 
Trustees, so that when the matter comes before 
the Trustees they are able to confirm the state- 
ments of the President, and to express their opin- 
ion without delay. There is no law governing 
these matters, but this, as a matter of fact, is my 
own method of procedure, which has thus far 
proved acceptable both to the Trustees and to the 
members of our faculties." 

In Johns Hopkins University : " Appointments f 
to the Faculty are made by the Trustees, who are 
largely influenced by the recommendations of the 
President, and he is influenced in turn by the 
wishes and recommendations of those in the Fac- 
ulty who are most capable of advising him, espe- 
cially by the members of the Academic Council." 

In the University of Pennsylvania : " The selec- r 
tion of new members of any Faculty is entirely in \ 
the hands of the Board of Trustees, who act 
primarily through their Committee upon the 
proper department. This Committee carefully 
inquires after available candidates, giving great 
weight, of course, to any recommendations re- 
ceived from the Faculty, and in due time makes a 
nomination to the Board, which is almost always 
followed by an election. No professor can be 
elected at the meeting at which he is nominated. 
Notice must be sent to every trustee, and a ma- 
jority of the Board must be present at the elec- 
tion." 

In Western Reserve University and Adelbert 

25 



The Constitution of the American College 

College the Faculty nominates and the Trustees 
confirm. The work of investigation is done by a 
Committee appointed by the Faculty, and upon its 
recommendation the nomination is made. The 
nomination is then submitted to a standing Com- 
mittee of the Trustees ; this Committee usually in- 
vestigates and passes on the nomination to the 
Board of Trust. The President is in constant 
consultation with each of these committees and 
they with him. 

In the University of Chicago: "When it is de- 
cided to make an appointment, the professor in the 
department and the President both take the matter 
in hand, the professor being careful in every case 
not to commit the university in any way. The 
matter is finally decided upon by the President 
and the head of the department interested, and the 
nomination is made by the President to the Board 
of Trustees. A by-law of the Board of Trustees 
provides that all nominations shall be made by the 
President. It is, of course, possible for me," says 
the writer. President Harper, " to make nomina- 
tions regardless of the wishes of the members of 
the department, but it would hardly be thought 
wise to do this except in special circumstances." 

In the University of Illinois: "We follow no 
particular method in securing a new member of 
our Faculty. We keep a file of all applications for 
positions, and when a vacancy occurs we examine 
the pile — and it is a large one. Sometimes we 
write to the older universities, and sometimes we 
communicate with teachers' agencies. In one way 

26 



The Constitution of the American College 

or another, we ordinarily find the right person in 
due time." 

In the University of Wisconsin: "Members of 
the Faculty here are appointed by the Board of 
Regents on the recommendation of the President. 
According to the prevailing public opinion in this 
place, no other method would be encouraged. 
Neither the Eegents nor the Faculty desire that 
anybody should be appointed excepting on the 
nomination of the President; and ordinarily the 
nomination of the President receives the unques- 
tioning ratification of the Board of Regents." 

In the University of Kansas : " Whenever a va- 
cancy occurs in any department, the head of that 
department and myself [the Chancellor] are ap- 
pointed to select a person to fill said vacancy. 
G-enerally the head of the department seeks candi- 
dates from such schools as he knows best fit men 
for his work." 

In the University of Nebraska: "A Committee 
consisting of the Chancellor and the Deans of the 
colleges look over the ground and determine who 
shall be recommended to the Board. The Board 
of Regents acts after this recommendation, though 
not necessarily upon it. I mean," says the Chan- 
cellor, " by this that they do not take original juris- 
diction in the case, and are not necessarily bound 
to follow the suggestion of the Committee if they 
know good cause to the contrary. Of course, prac- 
tically the Board formally elects whoever is se- 
lected by the Committee." 

In the University of Minnesota: "Candidates 
27 



The Constitution of the American College 

for professorships and assistant professorships are 
considered by the permanent officers, — that is, 
professors as distinguished from instructors, — 
and, if approved, the President nominates them to 
the Board of Eegents, and the Board elects. Of 
course the Board of Eegents can elect without con- 
sulting the Faculty." 

In the University of California : " We find a pro- 
fessor by seeking advice from men best qualified 
to judge in the particular lines of work. Some- 
times a head of an institution, like President Gril- 
man, is asked for a nomination from his graduates, 
and he turns over the question to the department 
expert." 

These examples indicate that there are two pre- 
vailing methods, which, however, in case all condi- 
tions are favorable, do not seriously differ in the 
results brought forth. There is the democratic 
method, in which the Faculty takes the initiative 
and does the larger part of the work in finding 
a new member for itself. There is also what 
may be called the monarchical method, in which 
i the President takes the initiative, in which he 
may, with or without conferring with his asso- 
ciates of the Faculty, cause an election to be made 
by the Board of Trust. But both of these methods 
usually bring forth the same result in case there is 
harmony of relationship between the various ex- 
ecutive departments. A college Faculty would sel- 
dom be willing to call a new member into itself 
without the express approval of the President. 
It is also true that no worthy President should be 

28 



The Constitution of the American College 

willing to bear a nomination to the Board of Trust 
without the approval of the Faculty. 

Between these two methods it cannot, to myf 
mind, be for one moment doubted but that the[ 
democratic is superior. A Faculty should have the 
right of determining who are to be members of 
that Faculty. If self-government is at all to be pur- 
sued, no better illustration of the principle can be 
found than in the organization of a college Faculty. 
This method also tends to illustrate the principle 
that in a multitude of counselors there may be 
not only safety but also great efficiency. This 
method also tends to promote a sense of individual 
responsibility which it is well for each member 
who works in a college to possess. It awakens 
enthusiasm and maintains enthusiasm. I am in- 
clined to assent to the opinion of ex-President 
Dwight of Yale College, expressed in a letter to 
me, that college presidents usually have too much 
power. It is difficult to approve of the wisdom 
of a man, a college President, who, as soon as he 
was installed, had only one request to make of 
the Trustees, and that was that he alone should 
have the right of nomination to the Board. It is 
only either a high degree of self-confidence which 
could lead a man to ask that this right be reserved 
to himself, or an exceeding low degree of confidence 
in a Faculty. 

In the administration of the American college 
the Board of Trust and the Faculty may in cer- ' 
tain ways be considered two coordinate bodies, 
for they work with each other in the bringing 

29 



The Constitution of the American College 

forth of certain collegiate results. In another 
sense the Trustees are superior to the Faculty, for 
they have absolute power to create or remove, to 
approve, to confirm, or to qualify. In another 
sense the Faculty is superior to the Board of Trust, 
for the Faculty represents the working force of the 
college, which immediately and constantly performs 
the duties to promote which the college exists. It 
is of extreme importance that these two bodies, 
whether they be regarded as coordinate or as in- 
ferior and superior on either side, should be thor- 
oughly harmonious. Any invasion, on the part of 
the one, upon the territory that belongs to the other 
results in inefficiency in the college itself. If, for 
instance, the Board of Trust invades the territory 
of the Faculty, even to lay down the rules of the 
daily life and conduct of students, or respecting the 
method and content of instruction, they usually 
find that they are dealing with conditions and 
methods which require the mind and hand of edu- 
cational experts ; and, as a rule, Trustees are not 
experts in matters of education. The tendency of 
the legal body to interfere with the teaching body 
is forcibly indicated by the late President Porter 
in writing of the ideal of the American university. 
He is discussing certain disadvantages of a State 
university, and among them he notes the tendency 
for the Regents to interfere with the relations which 
belong to the Faculty. But what he says does in 
certain ways have a broad reference : 

However carefully the boards of management are re- 
moved from direct interference on the part of political or 



I 



The Constitution of the American College 

popular leaders, the Regents of a State university can 
never be wholly removed from public and private de- 
mands and remonstrances on the part of men who have 
the ear of the people for the hour. Places will be sought 
for by unworthy aspirants and their friends ; the teach- 
ings of the university will be called in question on every 
point where they bear upon current questions of science, 
or religion, or finance, or health, or education. Whatever 
theory of culture the university may adopt wUl now and 
then be assailed by an organization of honest or dishonest 
demagogues, either educational or political. 

A great university must be the growth of time, dur- 
ing which a commonwealth of seekers after knowledge 
shall have been trained by one another, and shall have 
learned to accept common principles, to adopt common 
aims, and to share in a culture that has been warmed and 
made effective by active personal sympathy. To success 
in such a growth, independence is the prime and indis- 
pensable condition. The principles may be defective, the 
training may be defective, isolation and seclusion may 
confirm prejudices, but with independence there can be 
strength and continuity, while without it there can be 
neither. A State university with no chartered privileges 
can never in the best sense be a society that perpetuates 
itself, but must have a precarious and therefore an uncer- 
tain life. To expect for a State or a National University 
stability or independence in such a country as ours is to 
hope against reason and experience.^ 

The same result in kind and the same method 
also are seen in other forms of the public system 
of education. The evil to which President Porter 
alludes is far more common in the grammar and 

1 Porter, "American Colleges and the American Public," pp. 389, 
390. 

31 



The Constitution of the American College 

high schools than in the case of the State uni- 
versity. School boards are inclined to invade the 
province of school superintendents. 

But it is to be said, and with joy, that the ten- 
dency of the administrators in public education or 
in college education to encroach upon the territory 
of the teachers and of a Faculty is rapidly dimin- 
ishing. That administrator is the wisest who does 
his own business and makes no attempt to do the 
business which belongs to a teacher. Experience, 
too, is proving that we can in this country expect 
both stability and independence in a State uni- 
versity. The words written by the late President 
of Yale are not so true now as they were at the 
time of their writing, a score of years ago. 

On the other hand, a college Faculty may arrogate 
to itself duties which belong to the legal Board. It 
may lay out plans of work or enter upon their execu- 
tion, which call for expenditures of money without 
consultation with the Board of Trust, which is con- 
cerned with financial relations. But, on the whole, 
a Faculty is far less inclined to invade the territory 
of the Trustees than Trustees are to invade the 
territory of the Faculty. It is to be said that 
Trustees are not usually so jealous of their rights 
as to be inclined to limit the aggressive tendencies 
of their professors, if only they have money enough 
to meet all charges which are the result of these 
tendencies. In not a few cases the Trustees are 
inclined to commit what would seem to be a part 
of their own work in a large degree to the Faculty. 
Certain boards are accustomed to ask the Faculty 

32 



The ConstittLtion of the American College 

to determine the salaries of its own members. A 
gross sum, for instance, is put into the hand of the 
Faculty to use as its members see fit. This method 
is somewhat akin to the method formerly pursued 
in many medical colleges, in which the Faculty 
retained all fees paid by the students, and used 
the amount according to the dictates of their 
own wisdom. The endowment of medical col- 
leges is less than the endowment of any other 
order of professional schools, and therefore the 
Trustees, having no income from the investments 
to pay over to the members of the Faculty, and 
knowing that whatever income the members of 
the Faculty receive from instruction belongs, in 
a peculiar sense, to those who earn it, are more 
inclined to disclaim the assuming of financial rela- 
tionships. But when endowments become large, 
and the income received from these endowments 
represents the larger share of the sum to be paid 
to the professors. Trustees are inclined to main- 
tain their financial relationships, as, of course, 
they ought. The committing of the financial re- 
sponsibility to a Faculty has advantages in case 
of poverty, or in case of a lessening income. 
Professors are more willing to accept of small or 
of smaller salaries on their own nomination than 
as a result of the imposition of an outside author- 
ity. But the point can hardly be too strongly 
made that college faculties are not usually best 
fitted to administer funds. 

Without doubt that method of college government 
is the best in which each of these two bodies, the 

3 33 



The Canstitution of the American College 

corporate and the teaching, keeps itself to its own 
field, but with full respect for the field of the other. 
Or, perhaps, to change the figure, that method is the 
best in which these two bodies constantly and heart- 
ily and efficiently cooperate. This result is secured 
far less through any formal statute than by put- 
ting first-rate men jnto the Board of Trust and 
into the Faculty. It is to be noticed that, in the his- 
tory of the American colleges, upon both of these 
bodies clergymen have had a very large place. 
The representation of clergymen is becoming 
smaller with each passing year. In the early time 
the government of Harvard College was committed 
to them; at the present time they have no pro- 
fessional rights. President Porter has argued that 
the duties and responsibilities of the management 
of our colleges must still continue to be committed 
to clergymen. It is worth while to quote at length 
what he has to say : 

In the first place, most of the colleges have originated 
in the most thankless and self-sacrificing services. To 
services of this kind clergymen are consecrated by the 
vows and the spirit of their profession. The labor, self- 
denial, and disinterested toil which have been required to 
lay the foundations and rear the superstructure of the 
most successful colleges of this country cannot be too 
easily estimated. To a very large extent these have been 
endured and rendered by clergymen. The care, inquiry, 
invention, and correspondence, the personal toil and 
sacrifice, which devolve upon those who act as Trustees 
of an infant and often of a well-estabhshed college, are 
such that few persons except clergymen are willing to 

34 



The Constitution of the American College 

undertake them. Clergymen may not always be good 
men of business, but they generally know who are such, 
and have generally the good sense and feeling to ask the 
advice and to defer to the decisions of those who are, 
which is more than can always be said of laymen who are 
called to duties and trusts to which they are not compe- 
tent. Hence, with the best intentions and with far greater 
experience in affairs generally, laymen may fail where 
clergymen succeed. As to defect of tact or power of 
adaptation, especially in the management of men, an 
excess of tact has not unfrequently been charged upon the 
clergy. Clerical art and finesse have in not a few cases 
become proverbial as grounds of reproach. 

Clergymen are far more commonly interested in matters 
of education than laymen, by reason of a certain breadth 
of culture and generosity of disposition which are the 
results of Christian science. Though the idola tribus may 
exact from them a devotion which is sometimes narrow 
and exclusive, yet their profession is, from its very nature, 
as we have shown, the most liberalizing of all, from the 
common relation it involves to other branches of know- 
ledge and from the habit of seeking for the foundations of 
truth which the study of God and religion induces. It is 
but the simple truth to say that there is many a country 
clergyman, whose income is counted by hundreds where 
that of his classmate lawyer and judge is counted by 
thousands, who knows incalculably more of science as 
such, and of the way to learn and to teach it, than the 
aforesaid judge or lawyer whose reputation is the very 
highest in his profession. The professional studies of 
the clergyman do also very emphatically involve and 
cultivate a sympathy with literature of all kinds. The 
practice of composition and of public speaking upon 
elevated themes, involves more or less interest in the 
study of language and in works of imaginative literature. 

35 



The Constitution of the American College 

The clergy as sucli have, at least in this country, a more 
pronounced and catholic literary taste than the members 
of any other profession. They constitute, indeed, to a very- 
large extent, the literary class— the class that furnishes 
most frequently public addresses, essays, reviews, and 
pamphlets. Educated lawyers, physicians, and merchants 
write very little in comparison with them, and are much 
less frequently readers beyond the range of their own 
profession. 

The reason why clergymen are so generally selected as 
professors and teachers in colleges, is twofold : first, that 
the men best qualified by special culture are often er 
found in the clerical profession ; and, second, that the 
profession of teaching is akin to that of the clergj^man in 
the smallness of its pay and the unselfish patience which 
it involves. At the same time it is not usually true, so 
far as we have observed, that there is not a sufficiently 
large number of laymen in the faculties and boards of 
trust to correct the one-sidedness and to supplement the 
defects of their clerical colleagues. "We have never ob 
served that there was in such boards any jealousy of lay 
cooperation, any disposition to foster a clerical spirit or 
any one-sided results from clerical supervision. The 
cloistered, scholastic, and pedantic influences of the col- 
lege which are sometimes complained of, so far as there 
are any, usually proceed from lay professors who have 
never known anything but a scholar's life. The dodores 
umhratiles of the American colleges are not infrequently 
laymen.i 

But it must be said that the history of American 
colleges since these paragraphs were written, more 
than a score of years ago, has weakened the force 

1 Porter, "American Colleges and the American Public," pp. 
240-242. 

36 



The ConstiMion of the American College 

of their reasoning. The place occupied by the 
clergyman as an officer in American education has 
steadily narrowed. The lawyer and the business 
man are coming to have as important a place on 
the Board of Trust as clergymen. The questions 
which a lawyer is especially fitted to consider, pre- 
sented to a Board of Trust, rapidly increase. The 
questions, too, of general relationship which a 
merchant is fitted to consider also rapidly increase. 
The questions which may with special propriety 
come within the domain of a clergyman's consider- 
ation and position do not at all increase. It is also 
to be said that the custom of calling ministers into 
a Faculty on the ground that they are ministers is 
very rapidly passing away. It can hardly pass 
away too rapidly. Men of as pure character, and 
as influential in forming pure character in young 
men, can be found outside of the clerical calling. 
Men, also, of wide learning, of expert scholarship, 
are to be found without as well as within this voca- 
tion. The college demands men who have had 
special training for teaching the subjects in which 
they offer instruction. The day of the clergyman, 
active as a clergyman, in the management of the 
American college is passing away. All that the 
clergyman represents as a Christian, as a moralist, 
as a scholar, as a philanthropist, of course, has not 
passed and cannot pass away. 

Perhaps one of the most important influences 
which a Board of Trust can render to a college or 
to a Faculty is represented in what may be called 
its steadying power. Crises in college life some- 

31 



The Constitution of the American College 

times occur. Rebellions of the students are not un- 
known, though happily they are far less known now 
than they were in the times of thekfathers. Strained 
relations between students and teachers also occa- 
sionally exist. Divisions between different mem- 
bers or different sets of members of a Faculty 
sometimes occur. Such unhappy conditions the 
Board of Trust, being remote from the immediate 
turmoil, is better fitted to consider, and to give a 
judgment based upon facts without prejudice. 
Trustees are best fitted to serve as both judge and 
jury. They steady the trembling collegiate struc- 
ture. It has sometimes been proposed to make the 
Faculty the legal and governing body of a college. 
This method still maintains in English univer- 
sities. The method has been attempted on these 
shores. About the year 1721 an endeavor was 
made to turn out the non-resident fellows of 
Harvard College, and to fill their places by the 
professors. A long and serious quarrel resulted. 
About one hundred years afterward a similar 
attempt was made, and among those who were 
in favor of the change were Edward Everett, 
Andrews Norton, and Henry Ware. But this at- 
tempt also did not carry. It seems pretty clear that 
this method of government of a college by its pro- 
fessors would tend to create dissension and division. 
Under an ideal condition of human nature, and 
under an ideal system in the relations of men, this 
method would be the best. But too great intimacy 
of relations may promote disorder and bickering. 
^! The usual method of constitutional government of 

38 



The Constitution of the American College 

two bodies seems the best metliod of college gov- / 
ernment. 

In every college is found what is known as an 
association of the alumni. This association is fre- 
quently, though not always, an incorporate body. 
It is a society of the graduates, formed for keep- 
ing its members in close touch with the college 
after they have left its walls, and also for giving 
such aid to the college as it may be able. This 
association may prove, and usually does prove, of 
the utmost worth to a college. No society of men 
can have a greater interest in a college than its 
own sons. It is to them an alma mater. The name 
suggests rather the devotion of sons than the in- 
difference of the supporters of the institution in 
which they may have passed, willingly or unwill- 
ingly, several years. In certain colleges this asso- 
ciation has a representation on the Board of 
Trust. Ex-President D wight of Yale University 
says: *'We have one Board, consisting of eighteen 
members — the President, ten clerical members, six 
alumni members, and the Governor of the State ex 
officio. The clerical members hold office 'during 
good behavior' — that is, for life. They elect their 
own successors. They, with the President, are the 
successors of the Board constituted by the old 
charter of the institution. The alumni members 
are graduates elected by the graduates for six years 
— one going out of office every year, but eligible to 
reelection." President Carter of Williams College 
writes: "We have five Trustees elected by our 
alumni, one of whom is elected every year." 

39 



\sk»a?l£^!C^'-- 



The Constitution of the American College 

President Tucker of Dartmouth College says: 
"Our Board of Trustees is made up of twelve 
members — the Governor of the State, the Presi- 
dent of the college, who, however, must be elected 
to the Board, and ten other members, five of whom 
are nominated by the alumni. Nomination of 
these members is made for five years, one member 
retiring at the end of that term of service and 
another nominated in his place. The permanent 
members of the Board, in case of a vacancy, are 
selected by conference." 

What I have had to say in reference to the elec- 
tions of the Board of Trust refers to colleges of the 
more ordinary type. It has not had special refer- 
ence to State universities. The methods of election 
of the boards of trust of the State universities 
varies in different States. The following represent 
some of the more important : 

University of Pennsylvania: "Nominations are 
made by any trustee, and these are considered 
confidentially by the Board, freely discussed by the 
members, and only the result finally announced. 
As the position is one for life, and the association 
of the Trustees a very close and friendly one, 
the greatest care and discrimination are used in 
selecting a proper person." 

University of Illinois : " The members of our 
Board of Trustees are elected upon a State ticket, 
three being elected each second year." 

University of Wisconsin : " Our Board of Regents 
is appointed by the Governor, each regent for 
three years. There are as many Regents as con- 

40 



The Constitution of the American College 

gressional districts— one from eacli, and two at 
large. The Board, therefore, changes gradually, 
and is made up ordinarily of the best men the 
Governor can find." 

University of Nebraska: "Our Regents are 
elected by the people at general- elections." 

University of Minnesota: "Members of the 
Board of Regents are appointed by the Governor 
of the State, and confirmed by the Senate. As a 
matter of courtesy and wisdom, the Governor 
usually consults with the Regents as to who 
would be desirable." 

University of California: "Our Regents are 
nominated by the Governor of the State, and con- 
firmed by the State Senate. They hold office for 
sixteen years, and two go out every year. We 
have also seven ex officio Regents— Governor, Lieu- 
tenant-Governor, Speaker of Assembly, President 
of the Agricultural Society, President of the Me- 
chanical Institute, Superintendent of Public In- 
struction, President of the university. It is too 
large a Board." 

In other colleges, in which there is what may be 
called the second body, usually known as Over- 
seers, its members are elected from those who are 
members of the alumni association. Such is the 
case at Harvard. The American college cannot do ' 
too much to foster an intimacy of relationship be- 
tween herself and her graduates. She loves them as 
her sons, she glories in them as those to whom she 
has given her life. No association between an in- 
stitution and those who have received its benefits 

41 



The ConstiMion oj the American College 

is so intimate, or should be so intimate, is so lov- 
ing and so loyal, as that which is found uniting a 
college and its graduates. The fondness of a col- 
lege man for his college and the fondness of a college 
for its graduates, based upon a relation covering 
only four years, is absolutely unique among human 
relationships. 

It is not to be questioned that the ordinary 
method of the organization of American colleges 
is the wisest. The Board of Trustees and the 
Faculty are sufficient. A Board of Overseers in 
addition to a Board of Trust is usually superfluous. 
In case a Board of Overseers exists, the Board of 
Trust is generally small. It is necessary to have a 
small body of some sort in the government of a 
college which can be called together easily and 
often. But such a convocation can be had by ap- 
pointing a committee from members of the Board 
for administrative or executive purposes. To this 
body may be delegated sufficient power for doing 
the necessary business which should be done be- 
tween the quarter- or semi-annual or annual meet- 
ings of the full Board. It is also plain that in this 
Board of Trust is afforded an opportunity for the 
representation of the alumni of the college. It is 
useless to multiply boards in the organization of a 
college beyond those which are absolutely neces- 
sary for doing the business of the college. It is 
absolutely useless to have more machinery than 
one needs for getting the product which he wishes 
to get. 

There is also an objection to multiplying boards 
42 



The Constitution of the American College 

lying in the fact that the college as an organ of 
scholarship and training is inclined to conserva- 
tism. The college should be conservative, but a 
college may easily become too conservative. Most f 
colleges are altogether too conservative. Let there 
be safety; let there not be stagnation. It is 
much more difficult to overcome this tendency 
toward conservatism with three boards than with 
two. Two boards, also, are usually sufficient for 
the limiting of measures and of means which are 
too aggressive. 

Undoubtedly the government of the two great 
universities of England has tended strongly to- 
ward conservatism. It has been found very diffi- 
cult to make reforms in these two universities. The 
universities have, on the whole, been most remote 
of great English institutions from the influence 
of progressive public sentiment. One cause of 
this, in my opinion, is that the government of, 
for instance, Oxford University, is so complex and 
elaborate. Convocation, Congregation, and Heb- 
domadal Council represent societies each of which 
is in its constitution conservative, and all of which, 
united in an administrative agent, represent con- 
servatism of the extreme type. For instance, the 
Hebdomadal Council alone has power to initiate 
legislation. If this Council proposes a new statute, 
it has to be promulgated in the Congregation, which 
may either reject or adopt or amend it. If the 
Congregation approve of a statute, it is in turn 
submitted to Convocation, which may either adopt 
or reject, but cannot amend. Progress under such 

A3 



The Constitution of the American College 

legislative conditions is exceedingly slow and diffi- 
cult. When this government of the University of 
Oxford becomes related to the government of the 
colleges which make up the university, it is at once 
seen that any improvement in educational methods 
or advance in educational measures has to make 
its way in the face of many difficulties and objec- 
tions. "For," as says "a Mere Don," "plant a 
custom and it will flourish, defying statutes and 
Royal Commissions. Conservatism is in the air ; 
even convinced Radicals (in politics) cannot escape 
from it, and are sometimes Tories in matters re- 
lating to their university. They will change the 
constitution of the realm, but will not stand any 
tampering with the Hebdomadal Council. What- 
ever be the reason— whether it be environment 
or heredity — universities go on doing the same 
things, only in different ways; they retain that 
indefinable habit of thought which seems to cling 
to old gray walls and the shade of ancient elms." i 
The organization of the American college is not 
typed so closely upon the organization of the Eng- 
lish as the close historical association of the two 
countries would warrant one in presuming. The 
two common English types — the college, which is 
a private corporation consisting of a head with 
Fellows and scholars, and which is governed by the 
head and the Fellows, and the second type, the 
university, which is supposed to be composed of 
its graduates and students, and which is governed 

1 "Aspects of Modern Oxford," by a Mere Don, pp. 122, 123. 
London, Seeley & Co., 1894. 

44 



The ConstiUUion of the American College 

by its graduates — do not exactly reappear in 
America. Neither, on the other hand, does the 
German university method prevail. The German 
university is not only founded, but it is main- 
tained, by the state. The state confers degrees 
and establishes statutes. It founds all fellow- 
ships, and the holders of fellowships are officials 
of the state. The universities are under the con- 
trol of the minister of education, and are not subject 
to provincial authority. Yet, while the university 
is thus incorporated into the state, it enjoys a 
degree of independence possessed by no other state 
institution. The faculties, too, have in a large de- 
gree the right of self-government, and they have 
the supervision of a student in respect to his con- 
duct and studies. They even go so far as to pro- 
pose to the minister of education candidates to fill 
vacancies and professorships. Above all else, they 
exercise their right to freedom in teaching. Al- 
though recently attempts have been made to limit 
this freedom, yet it is to be said in general that 
never has the German university been more free 
than in the years of the nineteenth century to offer 
what instruction and under what conditions it saw 
fit. In the early part of the century there was 
governmental interference in behalf of the Hegelian 
philosophy. In 1840 there was interference against 
the same philosophy. Within the last two years 
limitations respecting the teaching of certain 
economic or social theories have been made. But 
in general absolute freedom prevails. This free- 
dom is akin to the freedom which a Board of Trust 

45 



The Constitution of the American College 

is accustomed to grant to the Faculty of an Ameri- 
can college in respect to all of its arrangements 
regarding instruction. 

The influence of the higher schools of France has 
never been so strong upon the American education 
as the influence of the universities of England or 
of Germany. In the time of the greatest intimacy 
between France and this country the American 
nation was not founding colleges, and the uniting 
of all universities into the University of France 
has not seemed to embody an educational method 
worthy of adoption. The French method repre- 
sents the extreme point of centralization, and the 
American represents, possibly, the extreme of 
diffusion. The present method in France and the 
present method in America have few points of 
relationship. In the American college the Faculty 
and the Board of Trust find a common meeting- 
point in the person and work of that officer who 
is called President. 



46 



Ill 

THE COLLEGE PRESIDENT 



^^ 



Ill 

THE COLLEGE PRESIDENT 

THE American college lias developed three 
types of tlie college President. The earliest 
was the clerical, the second the scholastic, and 
the third was, and is, the executive type. The 
first type began with Dunster, the first President 
of Harvard, and continued at Harvard down to 
Quincy, the first President within a hundred 
years, and the first but one of the entire period 
of the college, down to his own time, who was not 
a clergyman. This type also still prevails in many, 
possibly most, of our colleges. The type grew out 
of the fact that the American college was, and in a 
large degree still is, a product or a function of the 
church. A fitness existed, therefore, of making the 
chief officer of the ecclesiastical society also 
the chief officer of the educational society. It 
was, and still is, held that the supreme and com- 
prehensive purpose of the college is to form a fine 
and strong character in its students. This aim is 
identical with the general aim of the church. No 
unfitness, therefore, was apparent in looking to the 
pastorate for proper candidates for the college 
4 49 



The College President 

presidency. In certain colleges and institutions 
of even the more liberal type, it is still in the col- 
legiate statutes declared that the President shall be 
a member of a specified church. The President of 
Columbia, for instance, is required to be a member 
of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and the Presi- 
dent of Brown University and of the University 
of Chicago is required to be a member of the Bap- 
tist Church. Although but few colleges demand 
by their statutes that their chief executive officer 
shall be a clergyman, yet Christian and collegiate 
opinion in the case of many institutions would 
be satisfied with nothing other than that the 
President should be a clergyman. The great 
presidents of the past have, therefore, necessarily 
been clergymen. Dwight, of the first years of 
the century, at Yale; Kirkland, of the corre- 
sponding period, at Harvard; "Wayland, of the 
middle period of the century, at Brown ; and Nott, 
of the first half of the century, at Union, are ex- 
amples of the clergyman as a college president. 
Woolsey, chosen President of Yale in 1846, was 
ordained before he entered upon the duties of the 
office. Down to the middle of the present century, 
and in nearly every college, the President was a 
clergyman. 

As colleges ceased to be primarily ecclesiastical 
and became more educational institutions, the 
prevalence of the clerical type began to decline. 
As State universities sprang into being, — and into 
vigorous being, too, — the clerical type was found 
to be unfit. For the State universities were founded 

50 



The College President 

as a protest, not against Christianity pnre and nn- 
defiled, but against an extreme type of denomina- 
tional Christianity. Therefore, gentlemen who were 
primarily clergymen, and only secondarily scholars, 
were found ill adapted to the general educational 
and scholastic environment. Gentlemen who were 
primarily scholars, and secondarily clergymen, 
might, of course, be fitted to do educational work. 
Of this scholastic type are to be found some noble 
examples in the middle, and following the middle, 
years of this century. Mark Hopkins of Williams, 
Robinson of Brown, Seelye of Amherst, Lord of 
Dartmouth, Barnard of Columbia, and McCosh of 
Princeton represent this type in its largest and 
richest development. 

These two types, the clerical and the scholastic, 
overlap each other. Some of those whom I name 
as scholastic presidents were ordained clergymen 
of their churches. But be it said that the clerical 
element in each example of this class represents 
the clerical elements in a far less conspicuous and 
vital way than the scholastic. One thinks of Wool- 
sey, for instance, not as a clergyman or as the 
author of a volume of sermons, but as a scholar in 
public and international law. The first thought, 
too, of Hopkins and of Seelye and of McCosh is not 
of them as preachers or ministers, though they did 
preach and administer the sacraments, but the first 
thought of them is as philosophers and teachers 
and authors. 

The third type, the executive or administrative, 
grew out of the demands of the presidential office. 

51 



The College President 

These growing demands in turn grew out of the 
enlargement of the college. When the greatest 
colleges had only three or four hundred students, 
as not a few of them did have forty years ago, 
the work of the President could be done with- 
out difficulty by one who was also filling a profes- 
sor's chair. Throughout the time of the prevalence 
of the clerical and scholastic type in the office, the 
President of the college was also usually professor 
of what was called " mental and moral philosophy." 
But when a college in its undergraduate depart- 
ment has a thousand or more students, and in all 
its departments a number running from two to 
four thousand, the duties of the executive officer 
cannot well be performed by one who is teaching 
twelve hours a week. The increase in students is 
accompanied with an enlargement in all relations. 
The number of teachers in the largest colleges has 
doubled and quadrupled, and the endowment has 
become many times greater. The relations of col- 
leges to the public schools have become more 
numerous and more important. The relations to 
the people in all respects have also been enlarged. 
These conditions are both the cause and the effect 
of the prevalence of the executive or administrative 
type of the college President. 

Of course, this type may be embodied in one 
who is either a clergyman or a scholar, or both ■, but 
when the office is so filled the clerical or scholastic 
relation is not a cause, or even a condition, but only 
an accompanying circumstance or element. The 
President is not chosen to a position demanding 

52 



I 



The College President 

executive ability because he is a clergyman or be- 
cause he is a scholar, — he may even be chosen in 
spite of his being a clergyman or a scholar, — but 
he is chosen simply because of his presumed ability 
to do a specific work. 

This third type is divided, in its turn, into two 
or three somewhat diverse elements. For the Pres- 
ident of a new and poor and small denominational 
college in a new State is an executive, and the 
President of an old and rich and free and large 
college is also an executive. The President of a 
new college on the banks of the Oregon is an ex- 
ecutive, and so is the President of Harvard or of 
Yale or of Columbia. In the executive presidency, 
too, the emphasis on the various sides of the office 
may be varied. In the presidency of Columbia the 
emphasis is placed on the materially constructive 
side. In the presidency of Harvard it is placed on 
the educationally constructive side. 

The college President of to-day is an adminis- 
trator. In his work as an administrator are found 
many elements. 

Among these elements as an administrator is 
financial ability. As a financier the college Presi- \ 
dent is, first, to get funds; second, to invest 
funds ; and third, to use funds. As he gets funds 
largely, invests funds safely, uses funds wisely, 
is his success assured. The American college is 
usually the result of private foundation. It gen- 
erally springs out of the generous thought of an 
individual or a society of individuals. It continues 
to require the help of those, as supporters, who were 

53 



The College President 

its founders. The President is to secure, therefore, 
the endowment necessary for the proper doing and 
proper enlarging and enriching of its work. He is 
also to be able to recognize a good or a bad invest- 
ment. He may not be called upon to make invest- 
ments. It is seldom that his will alone determines 
what investments shall be made. Never should 
this responsibility rest upon him or upon any other 
person solely. But he should know so much about 
, investments as to be able to follow them as they are 
I from time to time made. The laws which govern 
the investment of college funds are the same laws 
which govern the investment of all trust funds 
which are expected to yield a regular income. He 
\ should also be so acquainted with the conditions 
of the different departments of the college, with the 
demands of each for instruction and instructors, 
that it is easy for him to divide the funds properly 
for the securing of the great purposes for which 
the college stands. Of course, all college presidents 
fail in any one or all of these respects in varying 
degrees. One college President spends too much 
money in fitting up the scientific laboratories 
of the college, the Trustees call for a halt, and 
ask for his resignation. One President makes too 
large investment in mortgage loans which prove to 
be worth only half their face-value, and he is asked 
to retire. One college President fails to interest 
the college constituency in the increase of the en- 
dowment, and he is glad to lay down the functions 
of his office. In the thirty years that President 
Eliot has filled with such conspicuous power and 

54 



The College President 

success the presidency of Harvard, the increase in 
quick assets has been about ten million dollars. 
Under the presidency of a most vigorous man, the 
University of Chicago, in less than a third of thirty 
years, has gathered unto itself an equal sum. Dr. 
McCosh, in a still earlier time, saw the funds of 
Princeton augmented, in his score of years of 
service, by three millions. The methods of securing 
funds, of course, vary. To one President money is 
given because the President has simply said in his 
annual report that money is needed. To another 
President it is given because people have confi- 
dence in his financial management of the college. 
To another money is given because of religious or 
ecclesiastical reasons. To a fourth it is given be- 
cause he asks for it. He may ask for two hundred 
dollars and get twenty thousand, or he may ask 
for two hundred thousand dollars and get twenty 
thousand or even two hundred. On the whole, 
college Presidents are able to prove that the college 
is the best method— as it truly is— for improving 
the conditions of humanity through the gift of 
large sums of money. 

As an administrator, the college President must 
be able to get on with men. Harmony is essential 
to the successful carrying forward of a work which 
demands personal service. Harmony, or the power 
of making adjustments, is sometimes supposed to 
be the sign of a weak character ; but this ability of 
maintaining a pleasant relationship between all the 
parts of the one force is a necessary element in the 
constitution of a college President. With at least 

55 



The College President 

four bodies, and it may be with five, the college 
President is brought into relationship. They are 
the Faculty, the Trustees, the students, the alumni, 
and the public. With each of these bodies he can 
maintain any one of some six relations. He may 
maintain the relation, first, of conflict ; second, of 
separateness ; third, of subjection; fourth, of 
mastery; fifth, of cooperation; and sixth, of de- 
votion. Of course, the relation of conflict is 
sporadic. If the official hand of the President is 
against every man, every man's official hand is 
against him, and he soon ceases to have any chance 
to have an official hand against any man. Yet 
conflict of the executive officer with any one of 
these four or five bodies is not unknown. With 
the Faculty the most common cause of disagree- 
ment arises from the assumption of monarchical 
powers on the part of the chief executive. The 
Faculty in an American college is usually quite 
as democratic as is American society. It con- 
tains scholars more scholarly than the President. 
It also not infrequently contains gentlemen of an 
eminence more eminent than any distinction 
that belongs to its chief officer; it possesses a 
strong esprit de corps ; it will not long endure a 
despot. In case a Faculty is split up into factions, 
the willingness of the President to recognize these 
factions, and to give his influence to any one of 
them, is, and must be, a cause of trouble. The 
college President is to be as impartial as any judge 
of the Supreme Bench. 

The President, too, of a small college in a small 

56 



The Collem President 



■^fe 



town having a small Faculty— as most colleges are 
small and have small faculties and are in small 
towns — is in peril of seeing things in dispropor- 
tion. He is in peril of magnifying the small and 
of minimizing the large. He and his associates are 
in danger of lacking " out-of-doorness." Such 
relations often result in conflict of relations. In 
this democratic small society he is in peril of play- 
ing the monarch; and such an attempt usually 
results in hardness of feeling and more or less of a 
disorganization. Differences between the Presi- 
dent and boards of Trustees are most likely to 
arise in the dif&culty of properly locating responsi- 
bility. Boards of Trustees are in danger of holding 
the President liable for results which he, in turn, 
thinks are the duties of the Board. Such a diffi- 
culty exists in the very constitution of most boards. 
If the President of the college is also the presidentX 
of the Board of Trust, as he always ought to be, 1 
and as in many cases he is, he is by certain of his 
associates regarded as their leader and guide, and 
yet by others his office may be interpreted simply 
as that of chairman, who is to do the bidding of 
the Board. A college, for instance, needs money. 
(And what college does not % Every college ought 
to need money. It is not doing its duty, if it do 
not need money.) The President may affirm that 
it is not his duty to raise the money. If money is 
to be raised, it is the duty of the Board to see that 
it is raised. The Board may reply that this man 
was made President in order to do the work that 
most needs to be done. The work which most 

57 



The College President 

needs doing is the raising of money. This duty 
this man is unwilling to do. In this condition 
collision is inevitable. 

With the whole body of students, too, the Presi- 
dent may find himself in a permanent condition of 
conflict. I do not now refer to the rebellions which 
arise from causes which are usually transient, but 
I do refer to the strained relations which exist be- 
tween the President and the students. These most 
frequently arise from the inability or unwillingness 
—usually inability— of the President to put him- 
self in the place of the student. It is the sheer and 
simple lack of sheer and simple sympathy. It 
springs often from a want of youthfulness, a qual- 
ity which may be lacking in that unchanging in- 
dividual, the youngest college President, or it may 
be potent in the oldest college officer. It may be 
manifest in his dealing with the individual student, 
or it may be made manifest in his dealings with 
the whole body of the students. The lack may be 
constitutional. He may wish to see and feel and 
will as the students see and feel and will, but he 
finds himself unable to enter into their state of 
mind. He moves in a different sphere from theirs. 
They move in a different sphere from his. The 
two circles may touch each other at only one point, 
and then only to repel. He may possibly not de- 
sire to be one with the students. Their interests 
are to him objects of indifference, and with their 
concerns he is not concerned. Conflict, too, with 
men who are graduates may spring from perpetuat- 
ing conflicts had with the same men when they were 

58 



The College President 

undergraduates. Differences of this nature, so far 
as they have no relation with the undergraduate 
conditions, may arise from a lack of frankness on 
the part of the Board of Trust or of the President. 
Colleges differ much with respect to the freedom 
with which they take their friends and their alumni 
into their confidence. Certain colleges have for 
years been most free in conveying all information 
regarding their internal organization and financial 
management to the world, and to their former stu- 
dents, and to every one who may wish to receive it. 
The ground is that the college is a public institu- 
tion. The college appeals to the public for students 
and for funds. Therefore the public has a right to 
know what use has been made of the funds received, 
and also what it would do with funds for which it 
is asking. Cornell and Harvard are as fitting ex- 
amples as can be found of the freedom of colleges 
in opening to the people their methods and condi- 
tions, financial and scholastic. Certain colleges, 
on the other hand, have been loath to let the 
people know regarding their internal conditions 
and administration. The ground is that the col- 
lege is a private institution. It is incorporated as 
a private institution, and the public and even its 
graduates have no more right to know regarding 
its condition than they have to know about the 
condition of the Standard Oil Company or the 
Sugar Trust. Amherst and Princeton have for 
years represented this tendency and condition, 
and, of course, upon what seem to their officers as 
ample and sufficient grounds. It is to be said that 

59 



The College President 

if the college wishes to keep itself in touch with its 
graduates, it should adjust itself and its conditions 
to the principle that knowledge is the mother of 
interest, and interest is the mother of beneficence. 
The chief cause of a conflict between a college 
President and the people is a lack of common sense. 
The college President seldom or never comes into 
conflict with the public except through the news- 
paper. The newspaper is the ground upon which 
the battle is fought, or, to change the flgure, it may 
be the very guns into which the opposing sides put 
their ammunition;— and usually, be it added, the 
editors or publishers of such journals are only too 
eager to receive such forces. The origin of these 
public difficulties is found frequently to be resting 
both with the newspaper and with the President — 
more usually with the newspaper than with the 
President, but its origin is sometimes found in the 
President. The great trouble with the newspaper 
is that it does not, in many instances, sufficiently 
recognize the importance of its reportorial depart- 
ment to cause proper reports of the doings of the 
college or of the utterances of its officers to be 
made. In the matter of public influence the re- 
portorial department of the American newspaper 
has come far to excel the editorial department, and 
yet the intellectual training that is employed in 
the editorial department is far superior to that 
employed in the reportorial. There is no need of 
diminishing the ability put into the editorial col- 
umn, but there is vast need of increasing the truth- 
fulness of the reportorial columns. The origin 

60 



The College President 

of any possible conflict, when found on the side 
of the President, usually arises from his failure 
to recognize the importance of his utterances made 
to representatives of the newspaper. He is inclined 
not to guard his utterances properly or to make 
them sufficiently clear and comprehensive. 

These causes of conflict, existing in a small de- 
gree, often show themselves simply in separation. 
Remoteness of the college President from his offi- 
cial associates and associations, or remoteness of 
his associates from him, results in ineffectiveness. 
Force in the collegiate organization is composed of 
many elements and of numerous forces, and such 
forces must be closely united to secure adequacy 
of result. The President must keep in close touch 
with the members of the Faculty. He should know 
the needs of each department in order that each 
department may do its full duty to the students, 
and also in order to give him light as to the appro- 
priations designed for each different department. 
The President should keep in close touch with the 
Trustees, in order that he may know them, and 
that they may know him, and therefore have con- 
fidence in his recommendations and approve of his 
methods, in case they are worthy of confidence and 
of approval. He should keep in close touch with 
the students also, in order that they may so 
know him and he so know them as to help them. 
He should keep in close touch with the alumni, 
for they represent that part of the people which 
should, and usually does, feel the most intense in- 
terest in the college and in its progress. He should 

6i 



The College President 

keep in touch with the people, for the college is 
essentially a public institution. It draws its stu- 
dents from the people whom it trains for public 
service, and it looks to the people for power and 
enrichment of every sort. 

The college President, in getting along with 
men, is not usually able to assume the role of 
master. Autocratic, monarchical government in 
the State undoubtedly results in economy of ad- 
ministration in the securing of justice, in the safety 
of life, and in the security of property, in case 
the monarch has perfect wisdom and goodness as 
well as absolute power. But such wisdom, such 
goodness, and such power are seldom found. 
Autocratic, monarchical government in the college 
undoubtedly secures the richest results, provided 
the monarch has perfect wisdom and goodness 
as well as absolute power. But such wisdom and 
goodness and power are seldom found even in the 
college ! Therefore, the method of the master is 
not to be followed in the college. The method re- 
sults in evils of all sorts— bickerings, disaffections, 
resignations, rebellions, revolutions, ineffectiveness. 

The relation between the President and all the 
directly or indirectly constituted parts of the college 
should be one of cooperation and devotion. The 
President should be devoted to every interest of 
the college, and should cooperate with every agency 
which works for or in the college. No want to him 
should be unknown, and by him no need should be 
unrecognized. Knowledge of each department 
should be his, not only for his own use, but also 

62 



The College President 

that he may convey the knowledge to others for 
the more adequate filling of all needs. He should 
recognize the claims of the sciences and of the lan- 
guages, of physics and metaphysics. Every in- 
terest of the student should be his interest. He 
should, like McCosh, love " my boys." With every 
college organization he should be in close touch. 
Every athletic or dramatic interest should be his 
concern. Any demand of a department which he 
cannot fill should give him sorrow; every wish 
of a professor which he cannot gratify should give 
him regret. Cooperation with every co-worker and 
devotion to every associate, sympathy with every 
interest, should be his happy mood and constant 
endeavor. 

In this cooperative service the President is 
tempted to make such a use of the tools of speech 
that he becomes in peril of being regarded as a 
liar. The remark is common that all college presi- 
dents lie. The falseness of the remark does not 
at all lessen the truth of the fact that all college 
presidents are tempted to lie, and are tempted pos- 
sibly more strongly than most men. The reputa- 
tion for deception which has come to cling about 
the office arises from the desire of the President to 
satisfy personal or official interests which are in 
mutual opposition. Therefore he is tempted to 
mold the pliable clay of truth to suit an auditor 
or petitioner. Of course the method is suicidal, 
and it is, I am sure, easy for the reader to think 
of more than one college President whose repu- 
tation for untruthfulness has cost him his office. 

63 



The College President 

As an administrator the college President is a 
' leader. He is obliged to take the initiative. Col- 
lege bodies are conservative. Scholarship is con- 
servative, and scholarship must be conservative. 
Scholarship relates to and deals with the achieve- 
ments of the past. What is called academicity is 
only conservatism gone to seed. Professors are 
conservative. Their work tends to create content- 
ment with existing conditions. Trustees are con- 
servative. Judge Simeon E. Baldwin of the 
Supreme Court of Connecticut, and professor of 
constitutional law in Yale University, in a paper 
■ on the " Readjustment of the Collegiate to the 
Professional Course," read before the American 
Bar Association in August, 1898, says : " The cor- 
porations which control our colleges are naturally 
and properly bodies of slow movement. They are 
commonly dominated by the President, and he by 
the policy of his predecessors. Jeremy Bentham 
said that he did not like boards ; they always made 
fences. Behind their shelter a blind adherence to 
traditional policy intrenches itself unseen. It is 
generally fortified by the sentiment of the older 
members of the Faculty of the institution. Their 
motto is apt to be, * Quieta non moveri.' " Trustees 
are inclined to let the gospel of hope be silent at 
the shrine of the well-enough. In the desire to 
avoid risks and to escape from rashness, they 
are prone to take no risks and to make no ventures. 
Of course, the question is largely the old question 
between conservatism and progressiveness. But 
in this contest there is no question but that the 

64 



The College President 

President must inevitably stand on the side of the 
progressive. Some colleges, like some countries, 
seem to be advancing, while others are petrified. 
But the President must be found among the ad- 
vancing forces. No college President that turns 
his face toward the past only or chiefly should be 
allowed to hold his place. In fact, every college 
that turns its face toward the past only or chiefly 
is dying, and ought to die. Every college President 
who does not turn his face toward the future active- 
ly and chiefly is unworthy of his place. The college 
or the college President that is simply standing 
still is like the bicycle that is standing still : it is 
not standing still ; it is falling. Every college that 
is not advancing is like the wave that is not ad- 
vancing: it is breaking. In this forward move- 
ment the President must maintain active aggressive 
leadership. This leadership applies to the field of 
finance. He must create faith that funds can be 
got, and this faith he must make rational by get- 
ting the funds. This leadership applies to educa- 
tion too, and he must cause every adjustment of 
knowledge and of teaching to fit into the enlarging 
and changing needs of the community. Among 
the educational leaders of this age two men are 
preeminent. They are the first President of Vas- 
sar College and the present President of Harvard 
College. They both came to their offices in that 
great seventh decade of the nineteenth century; 
they both gave light for darkness concerning edu- 
cation; they both quickened interest; they both 
aroused enthusiasm ; they both created strength ; 

65 



The College President 

they both inspired followers and associates into 
rendering superb service to the cause of human 
education and betterment. I write of both in the 
past tense. The present tense should be used of 
one : long may it prove to be the only tense to be 
fittingly used of him ! 

This power of leadership is akin to, and yet dis- 
tinct from, the power of inspiration. This power 
of inspiration is largely the power of personality. 
It is a power born in a man, and yet, of course, it 
may be cultivated, enlarged, and enriched. A vital 
personality usually has the elements of good health, 
an alert intellect, a winsome heart, and a strong 
will. 

It has its basis in the body, and it also gath- 
ers to itself the strength of the intellectual, emo- 
tional, and volitional nature of man. Through 
such an inspiring personality the teacher is helped, 
by it the student finds his work made easier, and 
by its means the trustee discovers that insuper- 
able difficulties are not insuperable. In the pres- 
ence of such vigor the graduates keep themselves 
in touch with their college the more directly. The 
public schools also feel the impulse of so vigor- 
ous a force; and the whole constituency of the 
college is filled with hopefulness by reason of such 
virile strength and splendid faith. Such inspira- 
tion and such leadership have been given by not 
a few college presidents who are still living. In 
recent years the names of such administrators as 
Tappan of Michigan, as Cattell of Lafayette, as 
Pepper of Pennsylvania, embodying virile elements 

66 



The College President 

of character and of leadership, have come to shine 
as the stars. 

As an administrator the President is not to for- 
get that he bears a close relation to other parts of 
the whole educational system of his nation. For 
the educational system is one. Weakness in a 
single part is weakness in every part. Strength 
in a single part is strength in all parts. It would 
be well, for certain reasons, to do away with the 
divisions into the lower education and the higher, 
as are seen in the primary, the grammar, and the 
high schools, and the college. The division gives 
too many and too easy stopping-places for students 
who should go on. But the power of unifying, in- 
spiring, correlating the educational system must 
come from above. If most political revolutions 
spring up from below, most educational revolutions 
spring down from above. A college President 
worthy and wise is especially fitted to aid the whole 
cause of education. He has a vision of the field as 
no one who is engaged in other parts of the same 
field can have. He has been a member of it as a 
student, and most frequently as a teacher also. Its 
students he receives into the college. Many of the 
graduates of his college become teachers in it. It 
is a college President who has given the best en- 
richment to the program of grammar schools. He 
also should be in a close relation with professional 
education. His graduates become lawyers, doctors, 
ministers, and he is deeply interested in giving to 
them a proper training for their professional ser- 
vice. The current feeling entertained by certain 

67 



The College President 

grammar- and high-school teachers of the remote- 
ness of colleges and college officers from their 
schools should pass away, and it is passing away. 
If certain college officers have given occasion for 
the feeling, the occasions are becoming less fre- 
quent. If teachers in the "grades" have been 
sensitive, they are becoming less sensitive. The 
college President is not to lord it over Israel, but 
to lead, to help, to inspire Israel. 

The President also should be a man uniting 
openness to suggestion with a clearly defined 
policy and resolute independence. His love for 
his college is so warm, his desire that it shall 
adequately fill its opportunity is so great, that he 
welcomes every intimation that may prove to be 
of aid in the adjusting of power to need. For he 
has no thought that he is the people, or that wis- 
dom will die with him. The suggestions which he 
receives may prove to be largely worthless, and 
yet, possibly, one out of the hundreds may contain 
the seed of a vast and noble fruitage. It was said 
of Emerson that he seemed to welcome every man 
and every message as possibly being the bearer of 
some precious blessing. In this mood of expectancy 
the college President works and hopes. Yet, al- 
though this is his disposition and outlook, his con- 
ception of his own duty is clear. He knows what 
the college is, and better than any one else he 
knows what it should become. He also knows the 
method by which the supreme or minor ends are 
to be secured. He should have as definite a policy 
as Mark Pattison, rector of Lincoln, had for his 



The College President 

college. The policy which he holds should not be 
a general policy equally good for all colleges. The 
President of the American college has not infre- 
quently erred in judging that the policy which is 
good for one college is also good for the college of 
which he is an officer. The presidents of colleges 
are now, however, coming to appreciate the differ- 
entiation of functions of different colleges. Dif- 
ferent colleges serve different purposes, or, if they 
serve the same purpose, they secure this purpose 
by different means. It may be said that the pur- 
pose of each college is, first, to train its students 
to noble manhood through noble scholarship and 
noble personal associations, and, second, to extend 
the boundaries of knowledge. But these two pur- 
poses do not apply with equal force to different 
colleges. One college should lay the emphasis on 
knowledge and another upon manhood. The ordi- 
nary New England college does, and should, lay 
emphasis upon undergraduate work for the purpose 
of training character. Harvard College is com- 
ing to lay greater emphasis upon graduate work. 
Johns Hopkins University has, from the time of 
its establishment in 1876, laid a stronger emphasis 
upon graduate work and the extension of know- 
ledge than upon undergraduate service. The presi- 
dents of Colby and Bowdoin and Bates in Maine 
are obliged to accept a policy unlike that which is 
adopted by the presidents of Columbia and Prince- 
ton and Chicago. Columbia is placed in the me- 
tropolis, and therefore has a policy different from 
that of Princeton, placed in a suburb of the 

69 



The College President 

metropolis. In the year 1853 the late President 
Rogers of the Massachusetts Institute of Tech- 
nology, while professor in the University of Vir- 
ginia, wrote to his brother Henry: "Merely col- 
legiate establishments do not prosper in any of 
our large cities."^ The policy of a college in a 
large city must differ from that of a college in 
a small village. It was not long after the College 
of New Jersey voted to call itself Princeton Uni- 
versity that the President of what has for several 
years been known as Colby University persuaded 
its Trustees to call the institution Colby College. 
In each of these cases President Rogers had a 
sound policy, which grew out of the conditions 
of his institution. The President of a college in 
central New York — small in number of students, 
but rich in history — was, previous to his election, 
requested by the Trustees to accept of the position 
upon the ground that it was desired to transfer the 
college into a university. He declined to consider 
the invitation. He knew that there was no need 
of another university in the central part of the 
State of New York. When, on reflection, the 
Trustees asked him to become President of the col- 
lege, he assented. The result is proving the wis- 
dom of his prevision and choice. Every college 
President must, with all his receptiveness, clearly 
put before himself a policy for the institution 
which he serves, and with the clear definition 
that he makes to himself of his college should be 
united a will sufficiently resolute that policy to 

1 " Life and Letters of William Barton Eogers," Vol. I, p. 329. 

70 



The College President 

execute. Without crankiness or stubbornness, 
he should insist upon the working out of his 
own plan. He is, of course, willing to surrender 
minor aims in order to secure the far-off and most 
precious purpose, but that purpose, wisely con- 
ceived, he is to hold most dear, and for it to work 
with constancy, with enthusiasm, and with inde- 
pendence. He is, therefore, to have in himself the 
elements of a statesman. He is to be in essence 
what Leslie Stephen says of Henry Fawcett : " He 
possessed some of the most essential qualities of a 
statesman— independence, soundness of judgment,^ 
and a power of commanding the sympathies with- 
out flattering the meaner instincts of the people." ^ 
The college President as an administrator is also 
to be a judge of men. No small part of his work 
is to recommend men for certain positions. In 
not a few colleges his will as to appointments 
is, as is indicated in the preceding chapter, prac- 
tically monarchical. ' In other colleges his will is 
only one of several forces cooperating in making 
appointments. But, at all events, his influence is 
considerable in the constitution of the appointing 
power. In the making of appointments he is 
obliged to consider the elements which constitute 
the value of a teacher to the college. Among these 
elements are scholarship, ability in the class-room, 
the pursuit of original investigations or the writ- 
ing of books, executive or administrative power, 
personal character as embodying the great pur- 
poses for which a college stands, and interest in 

1 " Life of Henry Fawcett," by Leslie Stephen, p. 449. 
71 



The College President 

the general relations of the college or of the whole 
university. He is often obliged to compare and to 
balance these elements. The demands, too, which 
the people make upon the officers of the college 
whom he appoints differ at different times. 

" The most important function of the President," 
said President Eliot, thirty years ago, " is that of 
advising the Corporation concerning appointments, 
particularly about appointments of young men who 
have not had time and opportunity to approve 
themselves to the public. It is in discharging this 
duty that the President holds the future of the 
university in his hands. He cannot do it well 
unless he have insight, unless he be able to recog- 
nize, at times beneath some crusts, the real gentle- 
man and the natural teacher. This is the one 
oppressive responsibility of the President: all 
other cares are light beside it. To see every day 
the evil fruit of a bad appointment must be the 
crudest of official torments. Fortunately the good 
effect of a judicious appointment is also inestima- 
ble; and here, as everywhere, good is more pene- 
trating and diffusive than evil." ^ 

In the report of Jared T. Newman as alumni 
Trustee of Cornell University (June, 1898), he 
says, quoting from the report in 1888 by Dr. 
Jordan, now the President of Leland Stanford 
Junior University : " The Faculty was the glory of 
old Cornell. It was the strength of the men whom, 
with marvelous insight. President White called 
about him in 1868 that made the Cornell we knew. 

1 "Educational Reform," pp. 35, 36. 
72 



The College President 

Everything else was raw, crude, discouraging ; but 
with the teachers was inspiration. The * subtle 
influence of character,' the association with men, 
has been the heart of the Cornell education in the 
past." 

The college President is also to be able to appre- 
ciate scholarship, as well as to be a judge of scholars. 
He may not himself be a scholar. Executive work 
which consists of details is an enemy to scholarship, 
which demands that time be unbroken. The presi- 
dents of colleges whose scholarship is comparable 
with the scholarship of the best professors are very 
few. The change in this respect in the last three 
decades is exceedingly marked. Hill and Felton 
and "Walker were scholars, and so were Woolsey 
and Porter and Barnard and Hopkins, and so also 
was McCosh, as well as Wood of Bowdoin , and 
so the present presidents of Yale, of Princeton, of 
Johns Hopkins, and of the University of Kansas 
are scholars. But when one comes to count up 
the number of college presidents who can justly 
lay claim to scholarship, he finds them a feeble 
folk and small. The cause is evident enough: 
the administrator has no time for the quiet pur- 
suit of learning. The college President is not a 
teacher; he is an executive. His work is to do 
things, not to tell about them. But neverthe- 
less he is to be in most complete sympathy with 
scholarship, and he is ever to have the largest ap- 
preciation of scholarship. If the college teacher 
is set to teach, he is also given the duty of extend- 
ing the boundaries of human knowledge. In this 

13 



The College President 

extension lie should find no heart more eager, no 
mind more appreciative, no purse more liberal, than 
that of the college President. The scientific labora- 
tories in which investigations are made such as those 
which Morley is carrying on in Western Reserve, 
or "Webster is carrying on in Clark, or Benjamin 
Osgood Peirce is carrying on at Harvard, should 
be the objects of direct and constant interest to him. 
The exploration of the various parts of the earth — 
geology, geography, archaeology — should represent 
to him a field of duty and of privilege which he 
should be most eager in urging people to cultivate. 
The college President may not himself be a scholar 
of any sort, but he is not worthy of his place unless 
he knows what scholarship is, and unless scholar- 
ship he admires and is willing to work for it hard. 
A college President is also to be able to command 
the confidence of the people. He is to deserve this 
confidence through his ability as a financier. He 
is, as I have before intimated, the custodian of trust 
funds; is he worthy of being such a custodian? 
He is a solicitor for funds ; is he worthy of receiv- 
ing? In a market in which money commands a 
lower rate of interest in each passing year, is he 
able to maintain a proper rate of interest, and also 
to keep good the security of loans? No college 
will usually secure endowment unless its President 
is known to be worthy of financial confidence. He 
is also to be able to receive civic confidence. He 
should be known as a good citizen. He may or 
may not have the infiuence of Witherspoon in the 
formative years of our nation, of Low in the city 

74 



The Collem President 



'^<b 



of New York, of Slocum in Colorado, of Julius H. 
Seelye in the valley of the Connecticut, or of 
Wayland in Ehode Island ; but he should be able 
to win the confidence of the people respecting his 
love for the nation, respecting his desire to serve the 
nation in the best ways, and respecting his ability 
to render service of value to the nation. He is also 
to receive the confidence of the people as a catholic- 
minded gentleman. All narrowness is to be as 
remote from him as are the two poles from each 
other. He is to be a large man, even if he cannot 
be great. He is to be a broad man, even if he can- 
not be a profound one. He is to be conservative, 
gathering up all the past for our inheritance; he 
is to be progressive, remembering that new occa- 
sions not only teach new duties, but also create 
new rights. If he is a poor man in purse, as he 
usually is, he should be able to be at home in the 
houses of the rich without thinking that they are 
rich or without making them think that he is poor. 
If he is a rich man, as it is desirable for him to be, 
he should be able to be at home in the houses of 
the poor without making them think that he is 
rich or without his thinking that they are poor. 
The causes of capital and labor should find in him 
a good friend, a just judge, and a willing cooper- 
ator in and for all rights. 

For as a large-minded man he is a trustee for 
the whole community. Such trusteeship is of pe- 
culiar value in the American community ; for the 
American community is a mobile one. It can be 
without difiiculty stampeded. Such leadership, 

75 



The College President 

sucli catholicity, were found more conspicuously 
in the late Provost Pepper than in most of his 
contemporary presidents. He is also to merit 
public confidence as a Christian, but not as a sec- 
tarian. The American college is Christian, and 
the indications are that it will remain Christian; 
and the people, be it said, are coming to learn 
that the colleges can be Christian without being 
denominational. The President of a strictly de- 
nominational college may be a member of that 
denomination ; but even in this instance it would 
be well for the denominational relation to be less 
prominent than the Christian in the case both 
of the personality and of the institution. The 
President of an American college should be a be- 
liever in the fundamental principles that constitute 
essential Christianity. The college that has as its 
chief officer an agnostic in theology will find that 
its progress is impeded. The true method and 
spirit are indicated by a broad-minded theologian 
and historian. Professor George P. Fisher, in say- 
ing : " Yale College was founded by religious people 
for religious ends. It has been the first aim and 
prayer of the eminent men who in past times have 
held its offices of government and instruction, that 
the principles of the gospel of Christ should be 
inculcated here, and the spirit of a living faith in 
the verities of revealed religion should prevail 
among teachers and pupils. . . . We have a right 
to declare, then, that, considering the history of 
the college, the men who imparted to it the prin- 
ciples that have given it success, and the generous, 

76 



The College President 

truly Christian spirit in wMcli it has been man- 
aged, its guardians would be unfaithful to the 
charge that has been transmitted to them, if they 
turned their backs on religion, or if, out of com- 
plaisance to a spurious and treacherous notion of 
catholicity, they were to allow a sectarian, proselyt- 
ing tendency to gain a foothold within these an- 
cient walls, where it would labor to subvert the true 
Christian liberality that has marked the administra- 
tion of the college." ^ 

In demanding that the American college Presi- 
dent should thus be a believer in essential Chris- 
tianity, one is simply applying what are the es- 
sential doctrines of the fundamental instruments 
of the American government. 

The college President is also to be a wise man. 
He is to possess knowledge, and this knowledge is 
to be constantly applied to affairs. He is to have 
a vision of public needs, and these needs he is to do 
what he can, directly and indirectly, to fill. He is 
to forecast the future. He is to perceive in what 
.ways the college can best serve the community. 
He is to be able to distinguish transient gusts of 
passion from lasting movements. He is even to be 
able, as has been said of McCosh, " to distinguish 
between the transient and the enduring, the illu- 
sory and the real, in character, in thought, in edu- 
cation, and in religion." He is to be in touch with 
all definite movements in education, and he is not 
to neglect these general tendencies in order to do 

1 William L. Kingsley, "Yale College : A Sketch of its History," 
PP. 154, 155. 

77 



The College President 

his own college work. He is to have that breadth 
of view which characterizes the wise man, and he is 
not to suffer that neglect of details which marks 
some foolish men. 

It is needless to say, and yet it may not unfit- 
tingly be said, that the college President is to be a 
good man. He may well strive to be the best man 
— as was said of President Day of Yale by President 
Woolsey, most worthy man speaking of man most 
worthy : " I suppose that if the nearly twenty-five 
hundred graduates who were educated in Yale 
College between .1817 and 1846 were asked who was 
the best man they knew, they would, with a very 
general agreement, assign that high place to Jere- 
miah Day."i He is to be great in his simple 
goodness. 

I should not close this chapter without recording 
even briefly a sense of the satisfaction which be- 
longs to the President of our American college. 
This satisfaction is manifold. 

(1) The first satisfaction to be named is the op- 
portunity of living with youth. Youth has at least 
three characteristics : it is vital, it is hopeful, it is 
picturesque. Even if the picturesque side of youth 
should show itself in forms either ridiculous or 
admirable, it is always interesting. (2) The op- 
portunity of living with scholars and gentlemen 
represents a further satisfaction. The human en- 
vironment is of larger significance and gives larger 
joy than any environment of nature. (3) The 
opportunity of meeting the best people on their best 

1 William L. Kingsley, "Yale College," p. 146. 
78 



The College President 

side is of special value. The people who send their 
sons and daughters to college are, on the whole, 
the best people. They never show their best side 
better than when they are talking with a college 
President about the education of their children. 
The President is also called upon to associate with 
teachers of all grades and from many parts of the 
country, and the teachers of the United States are 
among the best people. (4) A fourth satisfaction is , 
found in doing a work that unites the executive and / 
the scholastic, the practical and the theoretical ele- 
ments. Executive work tends to impoverish schol- 
arly ability. Scholastic work tends to remove one 
from humanity. The union of the two types tends 
to keep one in touch with the great human work of a 
very human world, and also tends to give intellec- 
tual enrichment. If the college President is a mere 
executive, he becomes intellectually thin. If the 
college President is a mere scholastic, he becomes 
musty and dry. The college President who is, as 
are most college presidents, at once an executive 
and somewhat of a scholar, is doing the most de- 
lightful work that can be done. (5) Another sat- 
isfaction in being a college President consists in 
the opportunity of transmitting wealth into char- 
acter. Wealth does not constitute a college, but 
no college can be constituted without wealth. 
Wealth is the embodiment of the power necessary 
for making a college. The college President is the 
avenue through which wealth flows into the con- 
stitution and organization of the college. Wealth 
may be transmuted into truth, into righteousness, 

79 



The College President 

into beauty, into joy, into human character. In 
this process of the transmutation of the lower value 
into the higher, the college President bears a nec- 
essary part. (6) Another element in the satis- 
faction lies in the opportunity of associating one's 
life and work with a lasting institution, the Amer- 
ican college. Individuals die and are forgotten. 
Institutions live. The college President who puts 
his life into a college is sure of an earthly immor- 
tality. Colleges are seldom named after their pres- 
idents, but presidents always live in their colleges, 
and not a few colleges cannot live the worthiest 
life without worthy presidents. Not to mention 
the living, one can say that Woolsey's twenty-five 
years at Yale are to live for centuries in the univer- 
sity at New Haven, and also that McCosh's life at 
Princeton is to live so long as Princeton lives. (7) 
The last satisfaction of being a college President 
lies in doing somewhat for the nation and for the 
world through giving inspiration, training, and 
equipment to American youth. The value of the 
American college to the American youth lies in 
some six elements: the discipline of the regular 
studies, the inspiration of friendships, the enrich- 
ment of general reading, the culture derived from 
association with scholars, private reading, and lit- 
erary societies. The most important of these ele- 
ments is the inspiration which is derived from 
association with men of culture; and the college 
President ought to be the chief of all these personal 
influences touching the character of the students. 
He lives in the lives of his students so long as they 

80 



The College President 

live, and he lives also in the lives of other men so 
long as the lives of his students touch the lives of 
other men. 

These seven opportunities represent the mighty 
satisfactions which the college President enjoys. 
They help to constitute his work as one of the most 
interesting and happiest works which it is given 
to any man to do. 



8i 



IV 

SPECIAL CONDITIONS AND METHODS 
OF ADMINISTRATION 



IV 

SPECIAL CONDITIONS AND METHODS 
OF ADMINISTRATION 

THERE are certain conditions and methods in 
the administration of a college to which spe- 
cial attention should be called. 

A sense of unity should prevail in the college. | 
Every one who helps to constitute the college ^ 
family should feel that he is joined to everybody 
else of the same body. Trustees and Faculty and 
students represent a common brotherhood. What- 
ever concerns one concerns all. If one member 
rejoice, all the other members rejoice with him; 
and if one member suffer, all the others suffer 
with him. The college is a unit. If the students 
have their sports, — and they ought to have them, 
— the Faculty should show their appreciation and 
should give their help in every possible form of 
support. If a student win a prize in an intercol- 
legiate contest, the Faculty, as well as the student 
body, should be made glad. If a graduate take a 
prize of two hundred and fifty dollars for a poem, 
it is not only the alumni that rejoice, but every 
student and every professor. The college execu- 

85 



special Conditions and 

tive should be alert to find and to make occasions 
through which the sense of unity may be promoted. 
He should seek to remove all occasions of antago- 
nism. It is to be said that in this respect a great 
change has occurred in the American college in the 
last century. The college officer is no longer an- 
tagonistic to the student body, nor are the students 
antagonistic to the college officers. The college 
officer desires to keep in closest relationships with 
the students. The change is as marked as the 
change which has come over the conception of 
the relations of the church to what is called the 
"world." Bunyan's Pilgrim has to flee from the 
world, abandoning his home, his wife, and his 
children in order to pursue his course toward the 
City Celestial. To-day Bunyan's Pilgrim would 
not leave his family or abandon his home in order 
to pursue his course : rather, his duty would be to 
pursue that course by staying in his home. The 
churchman of to-day is in closest touch with all 
that constitutes modern life. The college Presi- 
dent of to-day is in closest relationships with all 
that constitutes the college life of to-day. 

The result of such a sense of unity is a stronger 
and happier impression of the college on the com- 
' munity. The community has slight respect for the 
college whose Faculty and students and Trustees 
are given to bickerings and disagreements. One 
of the most conspicuous universities in the coun- 
try, situated in a conspicuous city, has the slight- 
est influence over its natural constituency, because 
the professors of the university are constantly 



Methods of Administration 

quarreling with each other, and because they as a 
body are antagonistic to the Trustees, and the 
Trustees as a body are antagonistic to the Faculty. 
A solid front means an impressive and influential 
force. A divided front means a divided interest on 
the part of the community. How often has a col- 
lege President who fails to receive the respect of 
the faculties and the regard of the students pre- 
vented his college from assuming that place 
which it ought to hold in the esteem of the 
people ! 

A sense of unity leads to a sense of loyalty, and 
it may also be said that a sense of loyalty leads to 
a sense of unity. Graduates like to be loyal to 
their alma mater. She is fair and beautiful and 
lovely. She has been the best of mothers to them. 
One is not inclined to find fault with that alumnus 
who allows his affection for the college to set aside 
his reason in respect to its worth. The mistake 
on the part of the graduate of a too high apprecia- 
tion of the scholarship of his college is a mistake 
of which it is not difficult to approve. The student 
and graduate is to be as loyal to his college as 
he is to his home. His home may lack elegance 
and wealth, but it is his home. We are ashamed 
of the boy who prefers the other boy's home with 
its luxury to his own home with its simplicity. 
We are no less ashamed of the college graduate who 
thinks more of the other man's college than of his 
own. It may, indeed, be a small college, or poor, 
but the graduate loves it. 

> One method of securing this loyalty represents 

87 



special Conditions and 

a good in itself, and also is the means of a further- 
good This good is happiness. 

The college is ever to seek to promote the hap- 
piness of each of its members. No teacher can 
render to the college the best service unless he be 
happy in that service. Outside of the happiness 
which results from good personal associations and 
environment, the happiness of a college professor 
is largely promoted through his having good tools, 
and through the satisfaction which his official su- 
periors take in his work. Every college should 
furnish each teacher with all the tools he can use. 
For most teachers these tools consist of books. 
For the teachers of science they consist of well- 
equipped laboratories as well as books. The col- 
lege teacher, too, is not so unlike most workers in 
every form of human society that he is hardened 
against the pleasure which appreciation of his work 
should, and does, give. 

The happiness of the teacher in a college is op- 
posed by difficulties arising from several sources. 
In some colleges the uncertainty of regular or full 
payment of salaries is so great that grave anxiety is 
the constant companion of the professor. But the 
anxiety arising from this cause is to be found usually 
only in those colleges in which other than scholastic 
motives prevail. Some denominational colleges 
have been obliged to ask their professors to bear bur- 
dens which have greatly diminished their strength 
for their proper college work. Other colleges, too, 
besides the denominational, — even colleges sup- 
ported by the State,— are occasionally obliged to 



Methods of Administration 

ask their professors to bear burdens of financial 
suffering; but it is to be said that these burdens 
are usually borne with the calmness of a scholar, 
even if not always with the patience of a saint. 
Not only does the want of money create unhappi- 
ness on the part of the teachers, but also a lack of 
frankness on the part of the college executive. 
Many a college professor is left in ignorance of 
affairs which are vitally associated with himself 
and with his family. The tenure of office as well 
as the amount of income represent two most im- 
portant elements in determining this happiness. 
Very grave injustice is often done to a college 
teacher by telling him at the very close of an 
academic year that his services will not be required 
at the beginning of the next year. Every cause of 
uncertainty should be at once removed by the one 
who is acquainted with the conditions, and who is 
strong enough to tell the truth, the whole truth, 
and nothing but the truth. 

The happiness of the students is an element quite 
as important as the happiness of the teachers of 
the college ; for students cannot, anymore than their 
professors, do the best work in a state of mental 
indifference or sullenness, or in an emotional an- 
archy of dissatisfaction, of which unhappiness is 
at once the cause and the result. The most im- 
portant element in producing happiness among 
the students of a college is a wholesome atmos- 
phere of humanity. A wholesome atmosphere of 
humanity signifies that college students are to be 
treated as other men, and neither as young boys 

89 



special Conditions and 

nor as animals; that they are to be honored and 
respected, and that the honor and respect that are 
demanded from them are to be paid to them. In 
this atmosphere justice without severity, kindness 
without weakness, firmness without wilfulness, 
appreciation without adulation, exactness of de- 
mands without nagging, strictness in enforcing 
college rules and obedience to principle without 
obstinacy, and sympathy without softness, should 
prevail. All personal kindnesses shown to stu- 
dents by professors or their families, especially to 
the boys and girls away from home, are valuable 
in most colleges ; but no favors of this sort are for 
a moment to be spoken of in comparison with the 
worth of a large sense of humanity. 

In the work of a college the principle of freedom 
is of supreme importance. As ethical interpreters 
of liberal learning in a democratic country, teachers 
and students are alike exceedingly sensitive in re- 
spect to any limitation of their right to hold and 
to express such opinions as they see fit to hold 
and to express. 

The question of academic freedom may be seen 
from two or three points of view. One point of 
view relates to that occupied by the college Presi- 
dent or professor ; one point of view to that occu- 
pied by the Trustee ; and one point of view may 
be said to be that which is held by those who 
have at heart the highest interests of a progressive 
civilization. 

The question of academic freedom as considered 
by the college President or professor has several 

90 



Methods of Administration 

relations. The general principle of freedom be- 
longing to him as a man is clear. He should, and 
usually is, free to hold and to express such opin- 
ions as he sees fit, only provided he does not op- 
pose the laws of public decency and of personal 
morals. As a college officer, however, the ques- 
tion whether he is as free as he is as a man is a 
question which depends largely upon the atmos- 
phere and ^the conditions of the college itself. A 
college professor who was subject to much criticism 
for holding and expressing views which were in 
opposition to those of the college he served, said 
on voluntarily retiring from his chair: "Not for 
a moment will I allow myself to be thought of as 
a martyr to the cause of free teaching. I shall de- 
fend the constituency and Trustees of College 

in their right to choose what they shall have 
taught." A college professor may, for instance, 
hold certain political or civil opinions. He may 
believe that these opinions should be expressed. 
One of the motives urging him to this expression 
may be that the expression would tend to in- 
crease the number of persons holding these same 
opinions and therefore enhance the welfare of the 
people. He may, however, hold certain opinions, 
and yet believe that the conditions in which he is 
placed are such that great harm, rather than good, 
would be produced by their expression. He there- 
fore justifies himself in silence. One of the most 
distinguished teachers in America wrote to a 
former student, who was placed in a college in 
which he could easily have opposed the ruling 

91 



special Conditions and 

ideas, saying: "The predictions that you would 
come into a state of loggerheads with your col- 
leagues are not verified. You have pursued a very 
wise course in avoiding contention with them. 
Even if you were right and they were wrong, you 
would be at a great disadvantage in contending 
with them; for you are younger than they, and 
they have a large body of alumni who are united 
in their favor. So the wise way is for the younger 
man to yield." A professor of metaphysics, teach- 
ing in a Southern college in the year 1853, believed 
in the immediate emancipation of the slaves. His 
belief he expressed, and he was at once compelled 
to tender his resignation. Another professor who 
also believed in the emancipation of the slaves 
withheld the expression of his opinion, and retained 
his chair. Which method — the method of expres- 
sion or of silence— a teacher shall employ, he must 
himself determine. But it is ever, and most 
strongly, to be said that a college professor is not 
justified in using his professorship as a sounding- 
board for spreading abroad his opinions when they 
are in opposition to those held by the persons who 
established and maintain his professorship. In 
fact, it is the veriest commonplace to say that such 
expression is in contradiction to the laws of good 
breeding. In fact, academic freedom is more often 
a question of good breeding than it is of liberty. 
Every college professor is to be absolutely free to 
hold and to express whatever opinions he chooses, 
so long as he maintains the character of a noble 
man and the manners of a gentleman. 

92 



Methods of Administration 

The question of academic freedom as seen from 
the point of view of the college Trustee is also one 
of grave importance. The large principle is that 
the college represents a condition for free discus- 
sion. It is the one place where truth may be ex- 
pressed — or what one holds to be the truth — with- 
out fear or favor. No fear is to be entertained for 
the truth ; the only fear is for error. For error is 
sure to fall. The principle that Milton laid down 
in his " Areopagitica " is still sound : The right of 
freedom and of liberty is a right now universally 
conceded. The best method of suppressing error 
is not by suppression, but by discussion. Educa- 
tional and religious heresies, as well as political, are 
not put down by restraint, but by expression and 
discussion. Such is the broad view, and yet a 
Trustee may not be content with it ; he may be 
inclined to adopt a narrow interpretation. He 
may say that the political or sociological views of 
a professor are not popular. The community is in 
favor of protection, and the views of the professor 
favor free trade. The community is individualis- 
tic, and the professor is socialistic, and is interested 
in the significance of socialistic phenomena. The 
community is prohibitory in its temperance or 
other sumptuary laws, and the professor favors 
license. Such lack of adjustment the Trustee feels 
will result in loss of students and a consequent 
loss of revenue. In other words, the Trustee be- 
lieves that the college should follow the behests of 
the community, and that each professor should 
believe in all respects as the community of which 

93 



special Conditions and 

the college is a part believes. Under this condi- 
tion the Eegents or Trustees of certain State in- 
stitutions have removed professors and have 
elected professors. As said a Republican journal, 
at the time of the discussion of the resignation of 
President Andrews from Brown University : " The 
theoretical rights of an individual are always sub- 
ject to restriction when they come into conflict 
with the rights or the interests of others. In other 
words, the individual has rights, but he also has 
responsibilities. In the case of a college President 
these responsibilities are very serious. A college 
President has the right to think and say what he 
pleases % Yes ; but he has no right to promulgate 
views of such a character as to react against the 
college of which he is in charge. The free-silver 
question is both a moral and a political issue. 
Most of the men who send their sons to Brown 
University, or give money to endow professor- 
ships or scholarships there, probably have views 
which are directly opposed to those of President 
Andrews. When their feelings in this matter be- 
came apparent, it seems to us that the choice 
between an active political propaganda and the 
interests of the university ought not to have been 
a difficult one." Such is the narrow view of the 
condition as interpreted by the college Trustee. 

The question of academic freedom as seen from 
the point of view of the interests of the highest 
civilization lends itself to easy discussion. The 
demands of the highest interests of civilization re- 
quire the utmost freedom of debate. Humanity 

94 



Methods of Administration 

makes progress through liberty, not through re- 
pression. Even though one college should suffer 
for a time through open discussion, the gain to 
humanity is great. It is reported that Bishop 
McGree once said that it would be better for every 
man in England to go home drunk of a night 
than for any man to be denied the right of going 
home drunk. It is likewise better for every college 
to hold and to teach error than for any college to 
have the right to hold and teach what it sees fit 
taken away. For the college, as for the individual, 
liberty is the only worthy condition. The college, 
like the individual, should be trusted. 

That academic freedom is not so thoroughly 
installed in American institutions and instilled in 
the educational judgments of the American people 
as it ought to be, is painfully evident. Formerly 
the teaching of the sciences represented the field 
where limitations were imposed. It was not long 
ago that in many a college or seminary of theology 
a teacher who taught evolution would be the ob- 
ject of suspicion, and might become the object of 
removal. At the present time the teaching of cer- 
tain economic theories would open a professor to 
the charge of insubordination. No teacher is to 
teach the false, of course, but each is to be allowed 
to discuss such questions as bimetallism or social- 
ism, protection or free trade, without suffering. 
Professor Foxwell of St. John's College, Cam- 
bridge, England, writes to a friend in America : 

It is difficult for us to understand the situation in the 
United States with regard to university professors. Our 

95 



special Conditions and 

people cannot understand why you can sit down quietly 
under this poisoning of the springs of national life. 
There is no heritage we prize more highly or guard more 
jealously than English freedom of thought and speech. 
We tolerate at our universities any caprice, any eccen- 
tricity, even some degree of incompetency, rather than 
to tamper with the liberty of professors. They are, in 
fact, absolutely independent. Like our judges, they hold 
their chairs for life and good conduct. In Cambridge we 
do not recognize any institution as a college unless it 
has an independent foundation and all teachers are 
elected by their colleagues or other experts. No Trustees 
intervene. But even if they did intervene, English public 
opinion would never tolerate any restraint on teaching 
other than that involved in the preliminary inquiry as to 
the competency of the teacher. 

A large policy should dictate. Let the best 
President or professor be chosen, and then let him 
be trusted. He is neither a fool nor a boor. He 
will not deal with the large vested and personal 
interests of the college with rashness. He will re- 
spect the opinions of his associates, and honor the 
rights of his official superiors or inferiors or peers. 
Let him be a gentleman, and then let him have full 
freedom. If a teacher be not a gentleman, he is 
not worthy of a college position. 

Another element of importance in the adminis- 
tration of a college relates to the differences be- 
tween a college and a university. Historically 
this difference has never been clearly differen- 
tiated. There are colleges which have done and are 
doing the work of universities, and there are uni- 
versities which have only done the work of col- 

96 



Methods of Administration 

leges, and some have even been obliged to be 
content with doing the work of the high school. 
I There are two essential elements of differentia- 
tion between the college and the university. One 
element relates to organization, and the other to 
the purposes and work of the institution. (1) A 
university should represent more than one depart- 
ment of study. An undergraduate college should 
not be called a university. An undergraduate 
college with even one professional school might 
be called a university, but the name should be 
limited only to those institutions which give in- 
struction both of undergraduate and of graduate 
character. (2) In respect to the purposes and 
work of the institution, the differentiation is also 
clear in general, although absolutely less distinct. 
The college is primarily set to form the characteA 
of undergraduates. The university has for its 
primary purpose the increase of knowledge or the 
giving of special professional training. These two' 
conditions run somewhat into each other. For the 
college which has for its primary purpose the for- 
mation of character may have for a secondary 
purpose the enrichment of the field of knowledge, 
and may also give a professional education. The 
university, too, which has for its first purpose 
the increase of knowledge, the enlargement of 
the domain of science, may have for its second 
purpose the enhancement and enrichment of char- 
acter. And yet, these two purposes it is easy to 
differentiate when they are embodied in the Under- 
graduate College and the Graduate School. The 

97 



special Conditions and 

Undergraduate College is concerned primarily with 
the training of character. Its purpose is to make 
men. The Graduate School is concerned primarily 
with the training of the intellect. Its primary 
purpose is to make teachers. The Undergraduate 
College uses personality as its chief instrument or 
condition. The G-raduate School uses scholarship 
as its chief tool. The Undergraduate College takes 
into view primarily ethical conditions, the Gradu- 
ate School intellectual conditions. The Under- 
graduate College is concerned with enriching 
American life through sending forth into it each 
year a body of noble men who are also trained 
thinkers. The Graduate School is primarily con- 
cerned with training leaders who in their profes- 
sional career, and especially in teaching, shall give 
to American society the highest intellectual and 
ethical results. The difference is fittingly indi- 
cated by Dean Briggs of Harvard College in his 
annual report for the academic year 1896-97. 
Professor Briggs says: 

Men talk sometimes as if the Graduate School were 
destined, and happily destined, to overshadow Harvard 
College ; for men have seen that it is the Graduate 
School, and not the College, to which they must look for 
the advancement of learning. The College guides youth 
to manhood; the Graduate School guides manhood to 
scholarship. Yet the very fact that the Graduate School 
is free to think first of learning, and the CoUege bound to 
think first of character, gives the College a larger and a 
higher responsibility. The College has, and must ever 
have, the wider range of human sympathy. It cannot 

98 



Methods of Administration 

take a lower place than tlie Graduate School till the de- 
velopment of the scholar becomes nobler and more abid- 
ing than the education of a man. 

Another special element in the administration of 
a college is found in the place and the work of 
various clubs and societies, and especially of what 
is commonly known as the fraternity. 

Undergraduate life is becoming highly organ- 
ized. Every college has clubs and societies of 
many and diverse sorts. A professor in Yale 
College says: 

The number of clubs and organizations of all kinds 
listed in a modern Banner is something wonderful : glee 
clubs, chess clubs, rifle clubs, whist clubs, yacht clubs, 
Yale orchestras, Yale unions, university clubs, track ath- 
letic associations, banjo clubs, tennis clubs, Andover 
clubs, Ohio clubs, Berkeley societies, etc. — most of them 
all undreamed of in the simple structure of undergraduate 
life in the sixties.^ 

In Harvard College are half a hundred organi- 
zations. These organizations are literary, dramatic, 
forensic, political, musical, religious, artistic, ath- 
letic, and geographical. The names of some of 
them are possibly suggestive : Civil-Service Reform 
Club, the Catholic Club, the Folk-lore Club, the 
Pen and Brush Club, and the Revolver Club. 

But more important than all clubs of all kinds 
put together in the American college is the organi- 
zation known as the fraternity. 

The fraternity is largely a product of the present 

1 H. A. Beers, "Ways of Yale," pp. 10, 11. 
99 
Cflffii 



special Conditions and 

century. Phi Beta Kappa was f onnded in the last 
century, but two score important fraternities that 
are now in existence have all had their beginning 
since 1825, when Kappa Alpha was established in 
Union College. Certain of these fraternities are 
national in their relationship, of which at least five 
are prominent — Alpha Delta Phi, Beta Theta Pi, 
Phi Delta Theta, Phi Gamma Delta, and Delta 
Kappa Epsilon. There are other fraternities which 
are also conspicuous. Among them, in the Eastern 
group, are Delta Phi, Theta Delta Chi, Sigma Phi, 
Psi Upsilon, Kappa Alpha, and Delta Psi. The 
Southern group includes Kappa Alpha (Southern 
order), Alpha Tau Omega, Sigma Alpha Epsilon, 
and Kappa Sigma. There are also fraternities that 
have special relations to Western colleges. Each 
of these societies is more or less intercollegiate. 
The number of chapters belonging to each frater- 
nity varies from a few to two score or more. ,The 
number of chapters belonging to the general fra- 
ternities, and also to the fraternities that are local, 
is in round numbers about eight hundred, and the 
entire membership, both among graduates and 
undergraduates, approaches a hundred and fifty 
thousand. 

The government of these organizations is like 
the United States government — a combination of 
local independence and of intercollegiate relation- 
ship. In local and minor affairs each chapter con- 
trols itself, but in all important undertakings the 
associated chapters act. These associated chap- 
ters usually meet once a year in a convention 

lOO 



Methods of Administration 

covering several days, at which such legislation is 
made as may seem necessary for the welfare of the 
whole society and of each individual chapter 
thereof. 

These chapters, scattered throughout the col- 
leges, are lodged in houses which bear the names 
of the fraternity. These houses are seldom situ- 
ated on the college campus, but are usually, though 
not always, near that campus. Reasons of con- 
venience prevail in the choice of location. In most 
cases these houses are rented for a specific time, 
but in an increasing number of colleges the frater- 
nities are owning their houses. Some of these 
houses are large, elaborate, and costly. In others, 
and more, the houses are simple and inexpensive. 
The value of the fraternity houses at Amherst and 
at Cornell is larger than the endowment of the 
ordinary American college. 

The principle on which these fraternities are 
based is the twin principle of gregariousness and 
of similarity. Human beings of similar tastes and 
relations like to associate themselves together. 
Good-fellowship in the college, as in all life, is 
of exceeding importance. College life naturally 
brings men into close companionship. The same 
environment exists for all ; the same teachers teach 
all; the same age obtains among all; the same 
democracy of life surrounds all; the same pur- 
poses animate all; the same interests interest all. 
The college has ceased to be a monastery and 
has become a community. But, despite these gen- 
eral elements of identity, there exist differences 

loi 



special Conditions and 

arising from a community composed of individ- 
uals. These individuals, who form the whole com- 
munity, easily and naturally unite to form other 
communities within the large whole. These lesser 
communities may unite on the basis of literary 
likings, of athletic abilities, of scholastic relation- 
ships, of simple social adjustments. But the general 
basis of association is the basis of good-fellowship, 
and on this basis men get together in what is called 
the fraternity. 

Be it said that good-fellowship is a more impor- 
tant element in the college than most students, 
esf)ecially those who are devoted to their regular 
studies, appreciate. For good-fellowship repre- 
sents personality, and personality is more impor- 
tant than any other element of life, either within 
or without college walls. It is told of Von Eanke 
that, at a great celebration held in his honor, he 
declared he prized more the commendation of 
being a good fellow than he prized the commenda- 
tion of being a great student, an eminent historian, 
or a noble teacher. And when with good-fellow- 
ship is combined a high intellectual force prevailing 
among the various members of the college or soci- 
ety, the result is of the greatest worth. It was the 
association of Spedding, Milnes (Lord Houghton), 
Merivale, Arthur Hallam, and Tennyson which 
probably did more for each of the band of the 
" Apostles " at Cambridge than any other element 
of their university or college life. 

The fraternity in the American college, founded 
on this basis of good-fellowship, is of the highest 

1 02 



Methods of Administration 

wortli in promoting friendships. In college, as out, 
friendship is the best thing to be given or received. 
Men living in the close fellowship of the fraternity 
are frequently friends before they go into this 
fellowship, and the fellowship deepens the friend- 
ship, out of which the fraternity itself grows. It 
is probable that the students in college form more 
friendships in the four years than they have formed 
before entering college or than they will form after 
leaving college. And these friendships, too, are of 
the most intimate sort. Men in college get much 
closer to one another than those living in any other 
condition. 

The intimacy of relationships prevailing in the ' 
fraternity is of special worth in forming a just and 
strong character. Personality is more important 
than the curriculum ; and the personality manifest 
in the fraternity house is quite as important as the 
personality manifest in the class-room. Through 
this method of intimate relationships all the ele- 
ments that make up a rich and fine character may 
become richer and finer. Faults are corrected; 
manners are cultivated; tastes are improved; the 
influence of the wiser over the less wise is strong ; 
the young lend themselves with ease to the guid- 
ance of the older ; and the older behave in gracious 
helpfulness toward the less mature. All the ele- 
ments that make up manhood may be enlarged 
through the life of the fraternity. 

The relation which the fraternity holds to the 
graduates of the college is of great importance. 
For the graduate finds that the college generation 

103 



special Conditions and 

is pretty short, and often after a year, or at the 
most two years' absence, on returning he finds few 
men whom he knew or who knew him while he 
was still an undergraduate. But he does find in 
his fraternity house a hearty welcome, and from the 
men at present students he receives the most cor- 
dial greeting. The ties of the fraternity are far 
stronger and attach him more closely than the 
ordinary college relationship. The fraternity 
serves to keep him in touch with the college 
more than the college serves to keep him in touch 
with the fraternity. 

It is also to be said that the fraternity becomes 
of great aid to the Faculty and Trustees in pro- 
moting the good order of the college. President 
Seelye of Amherst relied much on the help of fra- 
ternities in his administration. In his annual report 
to the Trustees (1887) he says : ^ 

Besides other helps toward the good work of the col- 
lege, important service is rendered by the societies and 
the society houses. No one now familiar with the college 
doubts, so far as I know, the good secured through the 
Greek letter societies as found among us. They are cer- 
tainly well managed. Their houses are well kept, and 
furnish pleasant and not expensive houses to the students 
occupying them. The rivalry among them is wholesome, 
kept, as it certainly seems to be, within limits. The tone 
of the coUege is such that loose ways in a society or its 
members will be a reproach, and college sentiment, so 
long as it is reputable itself, will keep them reputable. 

1 W. S. Tyler, "A History of Amherst College," p. 264. 
104 



Methods of Administration 

The closeness of the relation which should exist 
between the government of a college and the fra- 
ternity system is well indicated in a paragraph 
which I take from the best book upon American 
college fraternities : ^ 

The wiser of the college faculties are using and not 
abusing the fraternities. They find that the chapters are 
only too glad to assist in maintaining order, in enlisting 
support for the college, in securing endowments, and, in 
fact, in doing anything to increase the prosperity of the 
institutions upon which their own existence depends. 
When such ofiicers or professors have occasion to disci- 
pline a member of one of the fraternities, they speak to 
his chapter mates quietly, and suggest that he is not 
doing himself credit, or is reflecting discredit upon the 
good name of the chapter. It is surprising how soon 
boys can influence each other, and how students can 
force reason into the mind of an angry boy where faculty 
admonition would only result in opposition and estrange- 
ment. The members of a good chapter all try to excel, 
many for the sake of their chapter where they would not 
for their own. Each member feels that upon him has 
fallen no little burden of responsibility to keep the chap- 
ter up to a standard set, perhaps, by men since grown 
famous. College faculties sometimes see what a force 
they have here at hand, and what a salutary discipline 
the fraternities can exercise. 

The fraternity also represents an important tie 
uniting the colleges of our country to one another. 
The ties which join together the chapters of the 
same fraternity in the different colleges are far 

1 Baird, "American College Fraternities," p. 418. 
105 



special Conditions and 

stronger than the ties which unite the colleges 
themselves. The colleges themselves are prone to 
be, although now less prone than formerly, in the 
relationship of antagonistic units. Chapters of 
fraternities are in the relation of cooperative and 
unifying elements. They also serve to draw to- 
gether the members themselves into personal rela- 
tionship. In this way they serve, though in a far 
less intimate extent, the purposes which the great 
organizations such as the Masons or the Odd Fel- 
lows represent. 

So important a place is the fraternity coming to 
occupy that it has been suggested they may in 
time represent a method of organization and life 
not unlike that which the colleges at Oxford and 
Cambridge play in the life of their respective uni- 
versities. That time is certainly far off, but the 
tendency is very strong for the social life of the 
colleges to segregate and to divide itself into fra- 
ternal organizations. Already college tutors are 
living in fraternity houses, and libraries for the spe- 
cial use of the members are formed. What is this 
but a significant beginning of the English collegiate- 
university system? 

With all these advantages it is not to be denied 
that disadvantages are to be found. These disad- 
vantages lie in one general fault in promoting a 
loyalty to only a part of the college interests, and 
in lessening the loyalty to all those elements that 
go to constitute the college. Often the fraternity 
must, because it is a segregating agency, become 
also a dividing one. Fraternities were abolished 

io6 



Methods of Administration 

at Princeton in the year 1855, and a recent gradu- 
ate of that college says : 

The result is a freedom from those cliques and jeal- 
ousies which so often mar the peace of fraternity colleges. 
When Princeton men hear of wrangles over athletic 
captains, or read of Senior classes giving up Class Day 
on account of fraternity feuds, they breathe a silent Te 
Deum for their own immunity. Fraternities were abol- 
ished in 1855, and now the undergraduates would not 
allow them to return. It is not because fraternities are 
objectionable in themselves, only they have no function 
here. In Cornell they aid the college materially by pro- 
viding apartments for the men. In metropolitan colleges 
like Columbia they furnish a basis for social life; but 
here we have our college rooms, and prefer the broad, 
fraternal intercourse of dormitory and campus to the 
more limited friendship of the chapter-house. It is true 
we have our social clubs, with their club-houses. In some 
respects they resemble the chapter-house, but only in a 
faint degree. The secrecy and the partizanship of the 
fraternity is wanting, and we may safely trust the genius 
of our institutions and the courtesy and public spirit of 
the club-men to keep them from making any fracture in 
the unity of class or college.^ 

The fraternity, as an agent of social life and 
of recreation and amusement, helps to make the 
contrast between the life of the modern college 
student and the life of the university student of 
the middle ages significant. The life of the ideal 
student of the middle ages v^^as a life of few com- 
forts. It was essentially a monastic life. Amuse- 

1 G. E. Wallace, " Princeton Sketches," p. 196. 
107 



special Conditions and 

ments were largely prohibited in the feudal society 
of the middle ages. The military class predom- 
inated, and tournaments, hunting, and hawking 
were the popular sports. Such amusements were 
not adapted to university conditions. The chief 
amusement of the student of the middle ages seems 
to have been in the frequent interruption of his 
work through the holidays of the church or through 
festivals of patrons who had some relation to the 
college of which he was a member. The ideal 
student led a monastic life, but it is pretty certain 
that the student who was not ideal, but who was 
inclined to be dissolute, found that the ascetic life 
provoked wildest indulgences whenever occasion 
offered. Lawlessness and ruffianism of the severest 
sort not infrequently prevailed. The maddest 
pranks of the college student of this century 
in the United States are very pale and simple 
compared with some of the ordinary behaviors 
which are told in the annals of the University 
of Paris. 

A word should be said in reference to the oldest 
and most distinguished of all the fraternities, which 
still holds a unique place in the annals and life of 
the American college. The Phi Beta Kappa was 
the first society bearing the symbolic Greek letters. 
It was founded at the College of William and Mary 
in 1776. Its origin is more or less in doubt, but 
through more than a hundred years it has held a 
distinguished and honorable place among college 
organizations and in college life. It is now coming 
to stand essentially as an association of scholars. 

io8 



Methods of Administration 

The best scholars of each junior and senior class 
in a college in which a chapter is organized usually 
constitute its members. It stands more distinctly 
as an association of men who as undergraduates 
have manifested scholarly ability than any other 
institution in the life of the century. 



109 



V 

THE GOVERNMENT OF STUDENTS 



i 



V 

THE GOVERNMENT OF STUDENTS 

THE history of the government of the students 
in American colleges is a history of increas- 
ing liberality and orderliness. The government of 
the colonial period was of a kind like the civil 
government. It was minute in its inspection of 
students, and severe in its punishments. It was 
in order at Harvard College, at or about 1674, for 
the President or the Fellows to punish recreant 
students either by fine or by whipping, as the 
nature of their offenses should require. Each 
case was to be represented, in case of a pecuniary 
amount, by a fine not to exceed ten shillings, or, 
if corporal punishment were the penalty, by ten 
stripes. This whipping, too, was to be done openly. 
Judge Sewall, in his diary, says that in 1674 a 
student was publicly whipped for speaking blas- 
phemous words. In addition to this castigation he 
was suspended from taking his bachelor's degree, 
and suffered also certain other evil consequences. 
The execution of the sentence was quite as char- 
acteristic as its nature. The sentence was read 
twice publicly in the library, in the presence of all 
8 113 



The Government of Students 

the students and representatives of the govern- 
ment. The offender knelt, the President prayed, 
and the blows were laid on. The services were 
closed with another prayer by the President. 
Gradually corporal punishment passed out of use, 
but it was near the beginning of the last century 
when this form of penalty ceased.^ 

The offenses against college laws and procedure 
were of various sorts, and related in a far more 
intimate degree to personal character and behavior 
than would now be suffered. In the first third of 
the last century the students were subjected to a 
close inspection by their tutors. Tutors are di- 
rected to see that the students retire early to their 
chambers on Saturday evening, and they are also 
commanded to quicken the diligence of the stu- 
dents through visiting their rooms in daytime and 
in study hours and at night after nine o'clock. 
Special mention is also made in the laws of the 
time of certain habits which are supposed now 
not to demand special prohibition. For instance, 
mention is made of profane swearing, cursing, tak- 
ing the name of God in vain, light behavior, play- 
ing or sleeping at public worship or at prayers. 
Such offenses as breaking open chambers, studies, 
letters, desks, chests, or any place under lock 
and key, or having picklocks, are specially con- 
demned. Examples of the infliction of punish- 
ment for the infraction of these laws abound. 
On November 4, 1717, three scholars of Harvard 
College were publicly admonished for chewing to- 

1 Quincy, " History of Harvard University," Vol. I, pp. 189, 513. 

114 



The Government of Students 

bacco, and one was degraded in his class because lie 
had been publicly admonished for card-playing. 
The o:ffense of some others was the not uncommon 
one, possibly, among college students of that time, 
of stealing poultry. The oifenders were obliged 
to stand in the middle of the hall, in the presence 
of their associates. The crime with which they 
were charged was first declared, and then it was 
explained to them as against the law of God and 
of the commonwealth. They were admonished to 
consider its nature and tendency, and were warned 
to desist from the continuance of their practices. 
They were then fined and ordered to restore two- 
fold of that which they had stolen. 

Throughout this period, not only at the oldest, 
but at all the American colleges, down even to the 
middle of the present century, a system of pecu- 
niary fines represented the most popular method of 
securing good order among college students. The 
list of these fines, together with their amounts and 
the offenses which they represent, conveys a fairly 
good conception of the elements that went to make 
up the college life of American students for two 
hundred years. It is worth while to copy the list, 

long as it is : ^ 

£ s. d. 

Absence from prayers 002 

1 

4 

2 

3 

9 



Tardiness at prayers 

Absence from professor's public lectiire 
Tardiness at professor's public lecture . 
Profanation of Lord's Day, not exceeding 
Absence from public worship .... 

1 Qumey, "History of Harvard University," Vol. H, pp. 499, 500 

115 



The Government of students 

£ s. d. 

Tardiness at public worship 3 

111 behavior at public worship, not exceeding .016 

Going to meeting before bell-ringing .... 6 

Neglecting to repeat the sermon 9 

Irreverent behavior at prayers or public divinity 

lectures 016 

Absence from chambers, etc., not exceeding .,006 

Not declaiming, not exceeding 16 

Not giving up a declamation, not exceeding ..016 

Absence from recitation, not exceeding ... 1 6 

Neglecting analysis, not exceeding 3 

Bachelors neglecting disputations, not exceeding 16 
Respondents neglecting disputations, from Is. Qd. 

to 3 

Undergraduates out of town without leave, not 

exceeding 026 

Undergraduates tarrying out of town without 

leave, not exceeding per diem 13 

Undergraduates tarrying out of town one week 

without leave, not exceeding 10 

Undergraduates tarrying out of town one month 

without leave, not exceeding 2 10 

Lodging strangers without leave, not exceeding 16 
Entertaining persons of ill character, not exceed- 
ing ..016 

Going out of college without proper garb, not 

exceeding 006 

Frequenting taverns, not exceeding 16 

Profane cursing, not exceeding 2 6 

Graduates playing cards, not exceeding ... 5 
Undergraduates playing cards, not exceeding .026 
Undergraduates playing any game for money, 

not exceeding 016 

Selling and exchanging without leave, not ex- 
ceeding 016 

ii6 



The Government ofSUtdents 

£ s. d. 

Lying, not exceeding 016 

Opening doors by picklocks, not exceeding ,.050 

Drunkenness, not exceeding .016 

Liquors prohibited under penalty, not exceeding 16 

Second offense, not exceeding 3 

Keeping prohibited liquors, not exceeding . . 1 G 

Sending for prohibited liquors 6 

Fetching prohibited liquors 16 

Going upon the top of the college 16 

Cutting off the lead 016 

Concealing the transgression of the 19th law .016 

Tumultuous noises 016 

Second offense 030 

Refusing to give evidence 3 

Rudeness at meals 010 

Butler and cook to keep utensils clean, not ex- 
ceeding 050 

Not lodging in their chambers, not exceeding .016 

Sending freshmen in study time 9 

Keeping guns and going on skating 10 

Firing guns or pistols in college yard .... 2 6 
Fighting or hurting any person, not exceeding .016 

But Harvard was only one of many colleges that 
adopted this system for a time. At Amherst, as 
late as the administration of President Humphrey, 
which closed in 1844, an elaborate system of fines 
was in vogue. Fines were imposed for the offenses 
of bathing in study hours, for playing on a musi- 
cal instrument, for firing a gun in or near the col- 
lege buildings or grounds, or for attending any 
village church without permission. In fact, both, 
in Amherst and in other colleges, fines seem to 
have been regarded as the one means for doing 

117 



The Government of students 

away with all college evils. The students were 
not the only sufferers, for — at Amherst, at least 
— any member of the Faculty who failed each 
working-day to visit the rooms which were as- 
signed to him for his/parochial visitations, suffered 
a mulct of fifty cents .1 

It does not become us to criticize rashly the 
methods or condemn the principles of the colleges 
of a hundred or two hundred years ago. The 
principles upon which these colleges rested were 
as sound as the principles upon which these same 
colleges now rest. In fact, the principles have re- 
mained substantially unchanged, and it is possible 
that the methods of government of two hundred 
years ago or of the last century were good methods 
for the conditions that then existed. But down to 
very recent years, it must be confessed, the methods 
which have prevailed in the government of stu- 
dents have proved to be, on the whole, lamentable 
failures. 

In the history of the government of American 
colleges in the last hundred years, what are known 
as "college rebellions" have a somewhat conspic- 
uous place. Although the college rebellion has 
now largely passed away, yet for a century it has 
in most colleges, at certain periods, played a very 
significant part. The college student usually has 
a pretty keen sense of what we may call " natural 
rights." He also has a pretty keen sense of what 
we may call " prescribed rights." What belongs to 
him by reason of his being a human being, and 

1 Tyler, " History of Amherst College," pp. 81, 82. 
118 



The Government of Students 

what belongs to him by reason of his standing in 
a series of college men and a succession of college 
classes, he is inclined to appreciate at its full value. 
Whatever actions of the Faculty lessen his natural 
rights, or any infringement upon what his pre- 
decessors were supposed to have enjoyed in pre- 
scription, he is inclined to resist. It is also to be 
said that a college Faculty does not appreciate the 
natural or the prescribed rights of the students at 
the same value that the students appreciate them. 
The faculties are not inclined to hold the honor of 
the students so high or to feel so sensitive as the 
students themselves. Perhaps, also, faculties can- 
not always be so considerate of the limitations or 
demands, either wise or unwise, of the great body 
of the students as they ought to be. It is also to 
be recognized that students usually stand together. 
If any one of their number is treated unjustly by 
the Faculty, the whole body of the students is in- 
clined to rally about him, and to give him aid and 
comfort. 

Out of such conditions have grown college re- 
bellions. Among the more conspicuous of the 
college rebellions of the present century and of 
the last years of the last century are the Rebel- 
lions of 1768 and of 1807 at Harvard College ; the 
Rebellion of 1808 at Williams; the Bread and 
Butter Rebellion of 1828 at Yale, and the Conic 
Sections Rebellion of 1830, also at Yale ; the Re- 
bellion of 1836 at the University of Virginia ; the 
Rebellions of 1837, of 1845, and of 1848, at the Uni- 
versity of Alabama ; and the Rebellion of 1868 at 

119 



The Government of Students 

Williams College. There are, of course, other re- 
bellions in other colleges, but these may be re- 
garded as representative. 

In the year 1768 occurred at Harvard the most 
serious resistance to the college authorities in the 
hundred and thirty years of the life of the college. 
Of course, rebellion was in the air. As the people 
were passing acts against the British Parliament, 
their sons were passing acts against the Harvard 
Faculty. In such a condition a slight offense may 
be sufficient for arousing collegiate patriotism. It 
was announced to the sons of the colonial patriots 
that all excuses for absence from the college exer- 
cises must be offered before the absence occurred. 
Under this provocation the students assembled 
under a tree which they called the " Tree of Lib- 
erty," and voted their dissent. Several of those 
who were concerned in this resistance were ex- 
pelled. The senior class asked the President to 
dismiss them to Yale, and the three other classes 
also asked to be dismissed. But this rebellion was 
not pushed to a further extent. The senior and 
the other classes remained at Harvard, and there 
received their degrees. 

The Bread and Butter Eebellion at Yale in 1828 
is representative of the difficulties which a college 
finds in setting forth board for its students. Stu- 
dents, like all persons not living at their own 
homes, are inclined to be dissatisfied with the 
food spread before them, and, not following the 
Scriptural injunction, are inclined to ask questions 
and even to make affirmations as well as interroga- 

I20 



The Government of Students 

tions. In the summer of 1828, at Yale College, 
much complaint was made of the food provided 
by the college steward. Representations of dissat- 
isfaction were formally offered by representatives 
of each of the three lower classes ; but these repre- 
sentations did not secure any improvement. At 
last the condition became so strained that the 
whole body of the students agreed that they would 
not continue at the Commons until the changes 
they requested should be made. A committee was 
appointed to inform the Faculty of the decision. 
The committee called upon President Day, and 
were informed that no attention whatsoever would 
be paid to their complaints thus submitted, as they 
were in a state of rebellion, but, should they lay 
down their arms, the matter of the complaint 
would be considered. A meeting of the whole 
body of the students followed, by which it was 
declared in their behalf that they had repeatedly 
made complaint of their grievances to the Faculty, 
and had been promised relief, but these promises 
had not been kept. They could not get relief with 
satisfaction to their dignity or self-respect. They 
therefore reaffirmed their refusal to return to the 
Commons. The next day four students who had 
made themselves especially obnoxious were sum- 
moned before the Faculty and asked if they would 
submit to the rules of the college and go into the 
Commons. They declined and were expelled. Ex- 
citement had now reached its climax. The four 
men expelled became martyrs. A meeting was 
held in the open air on what is now Hillhouse 

121 



The Government of Students 

Avenue, at ■which a valedictory oration was pro- 
nounced by one of the four men who had been 
expelled, and other exercises of a somewhat touch- 
ing and ridiculous nature were held. A proces- 
sion was formed, which moved to the college 
green, and in the darkness of night, falling on 
the turf with hands joined, the students sang a 
parting hymn to the tune of " Auld Lang Syne." 
The next day the college assumed an unusual 
quietness, for only a handful of the students re- 
mained. In this rebellion, however, as in most, 
division means conquest. A few days spent at 
home with one's parents are usually sufficient to 
dull the edge of collegiate patriotism. Most of 
the men were soon ready to apply for re-admission 
to the college. The Faculty caused it to be known 
that the four men who had been expelled would 
not be accepted on any terms, but that others 
might return in case they would acknowledge 
their fault and sign pledges that they would hence- 
forth obey college rules. Under these conditions 
nearly all who had been concerned in the rebellion 
returned. 

This, the Bread and Butter Rebellion, was, how- 
ever, far less serious than the Conic Sections Re- 
bellion of two years later. This rebellion, the 
most serious that has arisen in Yale College, had 
its origin in the unwillingness of the Faculty to 
grant a petition of the sophomore class in reference 
to the method of reciting in conic sections. They 
asked that they be allowed to explain conic sec- 
tions from the book, and not demonstrate them 

122 



The Government of Students 

from the figures. When this petition was refused 
a certain portion of the class refused to recite in the 
manner required. It became apparent that there 
was a combination upon the part of a portion of 
the class to oppose the laws of the Faculty. Pres- 
ently a paper was sent to the Faculty, signed and 
approved of by no less than forty-nine members 
of the class, in which they declared that they would 
not recite in the way desired by the Faculty. Soon 
another paper was submitted to the governing 
board, in which it was said that their resolution 
was taken, they would not retract, and they would 
not obey any summons to appear before the Fac- 
ulty. Upon such an inflammatory and rebellious 
statement, the Faculty at once expelled forty-four 
members of the class. Such a summary and whole- 
sale dealing was a surprise to the men themselves, 
and was possibly a surprise to other colleges in the 
United States. But the issue was of such impor- 
tance that other colleges refused to receive any 
one of these forty-four men, with a few exceptions. 
This disastrous termination of the Conic Sections 
Rebellion put a stop to all concerted action on the 
part of students against the governing bodies. 

It is seldom that college rebellions have resulted 
in the loss of life. I recall no such instance in the 
North, but two or three such instances do occur 
in the colleges of the South ; for in the earlier years 
society in the South was such that it the more 
easily lent itself to the severer forms of resistance. 
Students are largely influenced by their environ- 
ment. The civilization of States like Alabama and 

123 



The Government of students 

Mississippi was of a frontier type. A large part 
of the white people had not learned to submit to 
the restraints of law. The sons of the pioneers 
were restless under college government, and were 
inclined to secure satisfaction, at their own hands, 
of any college officer who may have offended 
them. 

Possibly as serious as any of these college rebel- 
lions was that of 1836 in the University of Virginia. 
A severe infringement of college rules had occurred, 
leading to the summary dismissal of no less than 
seventy of the students. The ground of this ac- 
tion was that the students had possessed them- 
selves of fire-arms, and had avowed a determination 
of holding their arms notwithstanding the prohibi- 
tion of the Faculty. It also appeared that the 
students had combined into an association called 
the "University Volunteers," in order to bring 
and to hold arms within the precincts of the uni- 
versity. After certain conferences the University 
Volunteers decided to resist the college authorities. 
On the second night after the refusal of the com- 
pany to assent to the rules of the university, the 
discharge of muskets on the lawn was constant, 
and also there occurred what possibly might be 
called a riot. The houses of the professors were 
attacked, the doors of these houses forced open, 
blinds and windows broken, and there was some 
reason to believe that a purpose of attempting per- 
sonal violence was entertained. Professor Davis 
of the Faculty, four years after this riot, was shot 
down and killed in front of the door of his house 

124 



The Government of Students 

by a student who was celebrating the anniversary 
of its occurrence. The student was disguised and 
masked, and was firing a pistol on the lawn. See- 
ing Mr. Davis, he retired a few paces, and then 
deliberately shot him. It appeared that the stu- 
dent had no particular dislike for Professor Davis, 
but he had determined, as it became evident, to 
shoot any professor who tried to discover him 
while engaged in this act of celebration. 

Such forced opposition to the rules of a college 
Faculty has seldom been witnessed. However, in 
the University of Alabama, as I have intimated, 
such antagonism was evident in the fourth, fifth, 
and sixth decades of this century. In one of these 
affrays — which was rather an affair existing among 
the students— one of the students was shot. 

The last of the rebellions to which I shall allude 
occurred in Williams College in 1868. The occa- 
sion was slight, as is not infrequently the char- 
acter of the occasions of college rebellions. It 
was the passing of the following rule : " Each ab- 
sence from any recitation, whether at the begin- 
ning of or during the term, whether excused or 
unexcused, will count as zero in the record of stand- 
ing. In cases, however, in which attendance shall 
be shown by the student to have been impossible, 
each officer shall have the option of allowing the 
recitation to be made up at such time as he shall 
appoint ; and no mark shall be given to such reci- 
tation, unless it shall amount to a substantial per- 
formance of the work omitted." 

To this rule the students took the most serious 

125 



The Government of SttLdents 

oif ense, and presently the entire college assembled, 
adopted the following preamble and resolutions : 

Whereas, The Faculty of Williams College have im- 
posed upon us, students of said college, a rule that " Each 
absence from any recitation, whether at the beginning of 
or during the term, whether excused or unexcused, will 
count as zero in the record of standing. In cases, how- 
ever, in which attendance shall be shown to have been 
impossible, each officer shall have the option of allowing 
the recitation to be made up at such time as he shall ap- 
point ; and no mark shall be given to such recitation, un- 
less it shall amount to a substantial performance of the 
work omitted " ; and 

Whereas, We, students of said Williams College, re- 
gard the imposition of this rule as a blow aimed at our 
personal honor and manhood ; and 

Whereas, Our petition presented to the Faculty of said 
Williams College, November 6, 1868, for the repeal of the 
above-mentioned rule, has been disregarded ; therefore 

Eesolved, That we, students of said Williams College, 
declare our connection with said college to cease from 
this date, until the authorities of said college shall repeal 
the above-mentioned rule. 

The following resolution was also unanimously 
adopted : 

Resolved, That we, as a body of young men, agree to 
remain in this neighborhood, and abstain from all ob- 
jectionable conduct, until the final settlement of our 
difficulties. 

Presently the Faculty made a statement through 
the newspapers and also a statement to the parents 
of each of the students. 

126 



The Government of Students 

Dr. Hopkins at once set himself to removing the 
antagonism. In the first place, he made clear to 
the students that their resolutions declaring their 
connection with the college at an end was not 
tenable. No student could thus dissolve his asso- 
ciation with the college. The students were there- 
fore members of Williams College. He also made 
it clear that the Faculty rules the institution, and 
that they must rule it, and that any combination 
against its authority was contradictory to the 
pledge which each man made at his matriculation. 
President Hopkins also, through personal inter- 
views with students, made it appear that certain 
elements of the resolution to which they objected 
did not have his approval. This statement pos- 
sibly had great influence with the students. In 
this rebellion, as in all rebellions, time gave oppor- 
tunity for receiving letters from home. These 
letters are usually — if not invariably — in favor of 
the students obeying the rules and heeding the 
requests of the college of&cers. Presently an im- 
pression began to prevail in the college among 
some of the men that they had made a mistake in 
resisting the rule. Soon regular recitations were 
appointed, and the students found themselves in 
attendance. The rule was afterward modified 
slightly, and, be it said, not a student left the col- 
lege because of the adoption of the rule itself. 
After five days of interruption order was restored.^ 

The rebellion has now quite wholly disappeared 
from the ordinary life of the American college ; for 

1 Carter, "Mark Hopkins," pp. 79-98. 
127 



The Government of Students 

the conditions out of which the rebellion usually 
grows have, on the whole, been eliminated. The 
body of the teachers and the body of the students 
do not now stand, as they stood sixty years ago, 
at points of antagonism. The Faculty of a college 
is usually eager to suffer as few points of collision 
as possible between themselves and the students. 
The college laws have also become far less numer- 
ous and far less personal than of old. The general 
college law is that each man shall be a gentleman. 
If he prove himself not to be a gentleman, he is 
usually asked to retire from the college. The col- 
lege officers, also, are more inclined to put them- 
selves in the place of the student. They have 
become sympathetic with the great undergraduate 
body. This oneness of heart is illustrated in the 
reply made by one who is now a college President 
to the question whether he would accept a college 
presidency. " I will accept," he said, " if you let me 
go in swimming with the boys every day." College 
officers feel that the interests of the students 
a,re their own interests. Therefore, if laws either 
scholastic or personal are made, explanations re- 
garding the reasons for making these laws and 
also regarding their nature are easily and naturally 
suggested to the students. The rights of the stu- 
dents, natural or prescribed, are more honored. 

It is possible that rebellions will still spring up 
in American colleges. They arise out of conditions 
which occasionally may obtain, in case college 
officers are not wise, or in case students are un- 
reasonable. But the conditions are exceptional 

128 



The Government of Students 

and rare in which, in a well-constituted and well- 
governed American college, a general rebellion of 
the students against the order and discipline of the 
college is possible. 

For the government of the students in American 
colleges has undergone a revolution in the last half- 
century. Students are no longer made the objects 
of such inquisitorial investigations as were the 
earlier students at Princeton or at Harvard. As 
these inquisitorial investigations have lessened, the 
students themselves have responded to the greater 
trust reposed in themselves. The American col- 
lege community is now as orderly a part of the 
community, under common conditions, as it could 
be expected to be. The men themselves are— with 
occasional lapses, be it said — as self-respecting as 
any part of the whole community. 

The cause of these changes is manifest. The 
cause most evident, although not the most funda- 
mental, is the change in the methods of the college 
officers in treating the students. These changes in 
method are best set forth in the address which 
President Nott of Union College made on the oc- 
casion of the celebration of the semi-centennial of 
his becoming President. These changes are also 
illustrated in his own career as an executive in 
Union College. In the first years of this century 
in the government of Union College, the Faculty 
met as a court, summoned offenders, examined wit- 
nesses, and passed judgments with all the formality 
of a civil tribunal. Such a method President Nott 
felt was wrong in principle and unwise in method. 
9 129 



The Government of Students 

Once one of the professors came to an issue with 
one of the students on so simple a question as the 
right of the student to illuminate his room on a 
special occasion. The student would not accede to 
the wish of the professor, and he was accordingly 
expelled. The father of the boy appealed to the 
Board of Trustees to set aside the sentence, and 
after a discussion of half a year, with many accom- 
panying disturbances, the student was restored to 
his place in the college. It was at this time Presi- 
dent Nott determined that such methods should 
cease. He decided to adjust the government of the 
college to the age, temperament, and conditions of 
the students. Whenever any student was found 
offending in conduct or delinquent in his studies, 
he was treated as a child would be treated by his 
father in similar conditions. His most intimate 
companions were urged to take an interest in his 
welfare ; if he were a member of a society, that so- 
ciety was asked to bring all its influence to bear 
upon him. Moral and religious interests, sense of 
honor, were the motives and conditions that were 
used to aid students to be gentlemen. It is prob- 
able that President Nott has had a larger and more 
renowned success in managing students for the 
larger part of his career than any other college 
President has ever had. But the conditions 
that he found valuable throughout his conspicuous 
and prolonged career represent the method that is 
now prevailing among American colleges. 

Two theories of the relation of the American col- 
lege to its students do yet obtain. One theory is 

130 



The Government of Students 

that the college is a family — that the college officers 
stand in the place of the parent, and the college 
student in the place of the son. As becomes the 
parent, it is therefore the duty of the college officer 
to maintain watch and ward over each student. 
The college is not, of course, a family, but even 
if it is not, in the opinion of those who believe 
in this system, the results that are secured in 
the family should be secured in the college. In 
the place of any lack is substituted a system of 
rules and regulations. These rules and regulations 
are supposed to take the place in the college of 
what the family gives through its various personal 
ministries. A second system of government is the 
very opposite of the domestic ; it is a system that 
is distinguished by its want of government. The 
college has no relation to the personal character or 
personal relations of the student; the college is 
concerned only with the giving of instruction, 
as the student in his function of a student is 
concerned only with his capacity for receiving 
instruction. 

These two systems seldom exist in the naked and 
bald form in which I outline them, but, as theories, 
they obtain to a greater or less extent. Between 
these two theories are to be found many practical 
modifications of them. The emphasis is sometimes 
placed upon the domestic side, and sometimes 
upon the side of freedom ; and in the same college 
at varying periods the emphasis varies. 

In the discussion of these correlated theories at 
least four questions emerge : (1) Are American stu- 

131 



The Government of Students 

dents old enough to determine and to guide their 
conduct ? (2) Should the college attempt to control 
the private and personal life of students? (3) 
Should the college demand of students conduct 
which their homes do not demand? And (4) is 
there any method by which even a small minority 
of college students can be saved from going to the 
bad? 

The age of men entering the ordinary American 
college is now about eighteen and a half years. It 
varies, of course, in different colleges, and also in 
the same college at different periods. This age has 
in the course of the present century increased. 
The average age of the members of the freshman 
class of Adelbert College of Western Eeserve Uni- 
versity entering in the fall of 1899 was about nine- 
teen. At the present time, however, through 
better methods of education prevailing in the 
secondary schools, the age is in many colleges 
lessening; but eighteen years and a half is still 
the average age of the collegian beginning his 
course. Is a student, therefore, of an age from 
eighteen to twenty-two years sufficiently mature 
to be left to himself in all matters of conduct? Is 
he fitted to work out his character without super- 
vision or aid of any kind from the officers of the 
college ? 

It is certainly true that some men are fitted to 
perform this most serious and happy task; some 
men of these years are as mature as other men are 
at thirty. At eighteen some boys have habits as 
well formed, both in point of the content of the 

132 



The Government of Students 

habit and its fixedness, as others at the age of 
twenty-five. It is also true that certain boys at 
the age of eighteen and twenty are as unformed in 
respect to the fixed application of principles to 
conduct as others may be at fifteen or even twelve. 
A friend of mine writes to me, saying : " In general, 

College did not do its duty by me. It took me 

at sixteen out of a quiet home in a remote town, 
and gave me no affectionate personal supervision 
of the older-brotherly sort, and not even effective 
surveillance of the schoolmaster kind. I think the 
active, personal interest then of a good college 
professor might have expedited my eventual de- 
velopment at least five years. My own and my 
friend's principles were not established ; we squan- 
dered time atrociously, though not in vice, beyond 
whist and a little beer ; had no regular habits in 
work and in play ; and, in general, were negligent 
and neglected children." The man who now writes 
these words is a conspicuous author, and he writes 
them after more than twenty years' absence from 
the college in which he was a student. Another, 
who also was a student in the same college and at 
the same time, writes : " The average student in 
my day was quite as much controlled by principle 
as the average man of the world — more under such 
control, I think. I doubt if more stringent regu- 
lations than existed would have secured better 
results." 

The degree of maturity which is found in college 
students depends to a large extent upon whether 
they were fitted in high schools and lived in their 

^33 



The Government of Students 

own homes during the time of preparation, or 
whether they were fitted in academies away from 
their homes. In certain colleges a large propor- 
tion of the students come from high schools ; in 
other colleges a large percentage come from acade- 
mies which are in corporate association with the 
colleges themselves ; and in other colleges a large 
proportion come from independent academies. In 
the twenty years between 1866 and 1885 there 
entered Harvard College from the public schools 
about twenty-nine per cent, of the members of 
each freshman class: from 1866 to 1869 it was 
thirty per cent.; from 1870 to 1873, thirty-three 
per cent. ; from 1874 to 1877, twenty-nine per 
cent. ; from 1878 to 1881, thirty-one per cent. ; 
and from 1882 to 1885, twenty-six per cent. 
About the same proportion entered from endowed 
schools, such as the Phillips academies, and the 
balance from private tuition and from other col- 
leges. Students who enter our colleges from en- 
dowed schools are usually fitted to regulate their 
own conduct, but those who find their first absence 
from home contemporaneous with their entrance 
to college — who, in other words, while pursuing 
their preparatory course live at home — should not 
at once be given absolute and entire freedom ; or, if 
this is given to them, it should be given to them 
under such personal or semi-official conditions as 
to cause them to feel the restraining inspiration of 
friendship. Every man who enters Yale College 
at once feels the difference in maturity between his 
classmates who enter from the Hopkins Grrammar 

134 



The Government of Students 

School and those who come from Andover and 
Exeter. The truth, therefore, seems to be that 
some boys are old enough on entering college to 
be left to themselves, and some boys are not. The 
general truth is that those who enter college are 
neither boys, as some say they are, nor are they 
men, as others also affirm, but that they are young 
men: certain characteristics of boyhood still are 
theirs, and certain characteristics of manhood are 
also theirs; from the condition of boyhood they 
rapidly emerge, and as fast enter the condition of 
manhood. 

It becomes evident, therefore, that in certain 
cases it is the right, even if not the duty, for the 
college to control the private life of students. It 
is also evident that in certain cases it is not expe- 
dient for the college to attempt any such direction. 
But it may be safely said that the college as a 
college is deeply interested in the private life of 
each of its students, for the college desires that 
each student shall secure the noblest, richest, and 
best results from his college course. Therefore 
nothing can be foreign to the interest of the college 
which concerns the interest of its students. The 
only question for the college to consider is the 
general question, by what ways and means can it 
best influence the private life of each man who is 
committed to it for four years ? It may be said, I 
think, that students at once are rebellious against 
the control of their private life by the college au- 
thorities, and are also hospitable to all general 
influences of the college that look to the formation 

U5 



The Government of Students 

of their best character. Students wish to be helped ; 
students do not wish to be commanded; they are 
open to influence and not to control; personality 
rather than law represents the wise method. 

Not a few American colleges are subject to a 
difficult condition in respect to the control of their 
students. American education has not as yet fully 
and exactly articulated itself. In most, but not 
all, of the universities which attempt to give grad- 
uate instruction, the department of graduate in- 
struction and the undergraduate department are 
very closely related. Graduate students are usu- 
ally found in undergraduate classes, and certain 
undergraduate students are frequently found in 
classes designed primarily for graduates them- 
selves. This condition obtains both in Cambridge 
and in New Haven. On the other hand, most 
American colleges have in very close association 
with themselves a preparatory department. Even 
if there be a formal division made between the 
work of these two departments, the same general 
influences control the students of both depart- 
ments. Frequently, too, the students in the two 
departments recite in the same classes. Graduate 
students represent a degree of maturity and worthy 
self -direction which undergraduates do not possess, 
and undergraduate students represent a degree of 
self-control which preparatory students can lay no 
claim to. When these two classes of students, the 
graduate and the undergraduate, are placed under 
the same general conditions, it is difficult to subject 
them to the same general control, and also, when 

136 



The Government of Students 

undergraduate students and preparatory students 
are found to be in the same institution, it is dif- 
ficult to ask them to obey the same set of rules. 
But the necessity is laid upon the officers of insti- 
tutions which are thus placed with these duplex 
relationships to ask students of varying degrees of 
maturity and of immaturity to submit to the same 
governing principles and methods. The fact is 
that those principles and methods which are fitted 
for the less mature set of students are those which 
ought to prevail. College authorities usually think 
it is better to subject undergraduate students to 
the same conditions which preparatory students 
ought to submit to than to give to preparatory 
students that freedom which undergraduate stu- 
dents may properly enjoy. With the increasing 
differentiation prevailing in American education, 
this difficulty, however, is sure to lessen. 

At once I wish to say that the best method of 
guiding the personal morals of a student is through 
making constant and severe intellectual demands 
upon him : hard work is an enemy to easy morals. 
Professional schools attempt only indirectly to in- 
fluence the personal character of their students, but 
the officers of such schools usually believe that the 
most effective method of aiding the students to 
maintain uprightness in conduct is by maintaining 
high scholastic standards. Such a method should 
control in the undergraduate college. The man 
who works hard in college, who is required to de- 
vote eight or ten hours a day to the performance 
of his academic tasks, has usually little time for 

137 



The Government of students 

evil indulgences, or, if he have time, has little 
strength, or, if he have strength, has little incli- 
nation ; and the man who lacks time, strength, and 
inclination for base indulgences is quite sure of 
being free from them. The question of whether 
attendance upon recitations shall be voluntary, or 
whether the set of rules in a college shall be strict 
or exact, is a minor question in relation to the 
necessity of making severe intellectual require- 
ments. 

In addition to the aid which the necessity of hard 
work gives in the securing of fine personal morality, 
every college should recognize that the personal 
relation of professors to students and the great 
student body is of primary value. The impor- 
tance of this relation is becoming more and more 
conspicuous; the so-called "Advisers" at Har- 
vard represent and embody this method. The 
nickname of "nurses," which is given among 
the students to advisers, embodies in essence the 
idea of the personal relationship. One of the of- 
ficers of the college writes to me in reference to this 
system, saying : " The more I see of personal work 
among students the greater I believe its power 
to be. The only drawback is the shortness of life 
and the necessity that an instructor should have 
some time for study." The first duty of the teacher 
m the American college is to teach; the second 
duty of the professor in the American college is to 
teach; failure in teaching is fundamental, but, 
when the professor has taught, he has not finished 
his duty : he is still to give himself to his students 

138 



The Government of Students 

in such, ways as lie deems fitting as a person in 
order to help them to become better persons. 

As a part of this general relationship of the col- 
lege the relation of the students to each other 
is not to be so easily passed over, as it has often 
been, for older students may be of the greatest 
help to the younger. The influence of college stu- 
dent over college student is frequently of greater 
value than the influence of college professor over 
college student. We recognize the value of influ- 
ence toward evil ; the value of the influence of the 
student toward good may be equally strong. Stu- 
dents, like professors, who have the qualities of a 
strong personality united with tact, patience, and 
enthusiasm, may be of the utmost worth in helping 
their associates to the best life. 

College officers themselves, as well as graduates 
of many years' standing, believe that it is com- 
paratively useless to attempt to control by rules 
and regulations the conduct of college students; 
but it is evident that through personal influence 
they may control the conduct and form the char- 
acter of students. Upon this point I have recently 
read scores of letters from graduates of long stand- 
ing and from college officers. One of them, the 
chairman of the Faculty of an old and conspicuous 
university, says: 

In my college days, which were passed at Hampden 
Sidney College, Virginia, and at the University from 
1868 to 1873, the control exercised by the officers of dis- 
cipline was mainly through influence rather than through 

U9 



The Government of Students 

authority. There was never any espionage, but we were 
trusted to do what we knew to be right, and the sole effec- 
tive cheek upon bad habits was found in the test offered 
by the college work. 

I believed then, and believe now, that it is not only 
wise but necessary to leave the college student to govern 
himself. Some will fall into error, some into vice, but it 
is a time in the life of a young man when his character 
needs the very discipline that is offered by this reliance 
upon his own powers of self-control. If at this period 
students are kept under constant surveillance, their char- 
acters are likely to be permanently distorted. All that 
can be done and ought to be done is to bring every salu- 
tary and uplifting influence to bear upon the student life, 
to offer legitimate and wholesome amusements as rivals 
of those that are unhealthy and illicit, to encourage among 
the young men a feeling of personal pride and honor and 
self-respecting uprightness, to establish a public opinion 
among the students which frowns upon gross vice and all 
forms of dishonorable action ; in other words, to make the 
college career in this way a moral gymnastic, and create 
out of the college student a worthy, honest, upright 
citizen. 

Another, a graduate of the University of Michi- 
gan, and a lawyer, writes : 

It was my fortune to spend two years in a New Eng- 
land college having about two hundred students, and to 
enter Michigan University at the beginning of my junior 
year. At the former institution students were subjected 
to a close watch— tutors and professors rooming in the 
same dormitories with the pupils, the attendance upon 
chapel and church being reported by monitors. Notwith- 
standing this oversight, or on account of it, no opportu- 

*" 140 



The Government of Students 

nity was lost on the part of tlie boys of giving vent to 
their animal spirits. Half-dressed attendance at early 
chapel, and summer nights made hideous by the horn- 
blowing of ghost-clad boys on the roofs of the dormi- 
tories, together with the dangerous practice of hazing, 
often accompanied by a rain of stones like a hail-storm, 
demolishing scores of panes of glass, remain as vivid pic- 
tures in my mental gallery. 

Upon entering the University of Michigan I found 
there were no dormitories ; the marking system had been 
abolished; there were no class honors or rivalries for 
prizes. But what was entirely new to me was an intel- 
lectual atmosphere and the spirit of earnest work that 
pervaded the university town, and this gives me an op- 
portunity to write, in a general way, upon the govern- 
ment of college students. 

Our President and Faculty succeeded in interesting the 
students in their work ; the numbers were large, and there 
was a strong current in the direction of earnest appli- 
cation which seemed to carry every one with it. A num- 
ber of our professors were making discoveries and original 
investigations, and were publishing books upon their vari- 
ous specialties. The works on spherical trigonometry 
and calculus that were afterward published by Professor 
Olney were used in manuscript in our class and in the 
form of lectures. It is unnecessary to say that there 
were no ponies or diminutive books on shirt-cuffs. Pro- 
fessor Watson was frequently "bagging an asteroid." 
Professor Cocker's " Christianity and Greek Philosophy " 
was just out, and placed as a text-book in the hands of the 
senior class, and Cooley's " Constitutional Limitations " 
was giving him and the University a name on both sides of 
the ocean. In other words, the University was not con- 
ducted as a military post, where boys were instructed to do 
some definite things and continually warned not to do other 

141 



The Government of Students 

specific things, but all alike, Faculty and students, seemed 
to be under the same law and striving for a common ob- 
ject. The moral as well as the intellectual life of the 
students was on a much higher plane than at the college 
which was governed by stricter rules. 

Another, a physician in St. Paul, writes : 

Last summer I was in Cambridge for a week ; I roomed 
in the college buildings and took my meals in Memo- 
rial Hall. It was the week of Class Day, when nearly aU 
the college students had finished their college duties j and 
if the devil finds work for idle hands, here was a first- 
class opportunity. During that week I failed to see a 
single act that the most critical observer could censure. 

A few days later I was for a few hours at another insti- 
tution, noted for its strictness, and I confess I saw a good 
deal of rowdyism. Harvard has practically no laws ; the 
other has a statute-book full of them. I think I may be 
regarded as an impartial observer, for I am not a gradu- 
ate of either of the colleges that I have mentioned. 

Such, testimonies I might greatly multiply, but 
all such testimonies would be evidence to prove 
this point — that it is useless for the American 
college to attempt to control conduct by rules ; it 
is worse than useless ; and, further, it is of abound- 
ing value in the American college to attempt to 
control conduct and to form character through 
personal relationships and through the necessity 
of hard work. 

A further question arising out of the general 
subject relates to whether the college has the right 
to demand personal conduct of students which the 

142 



The Government of Students 

homes from which students come, and to which 
they still belong, though in college, do not demand. 
It may be at once said that the college has the 
right, abstract and absolute, to make any demand 
which it sees fit to make. The college is usually 
a private corporation, although in certain large 
relations it is a public trust, and therefore it may 
do whatsoever seemeth to itself good. But a col- 
lege never interprets its rights in such a hard-and- 
fast way. It holds its powers in trust for the 
people, and it wishes to use its powers so that 
the good of the people may be promoted. Yet the 
president of one college writes to me defining the 
right of the college to exact from students, in 
the matter of drinking, for instance, conduct not 
required in their homes, on the grounds (1) that a 
college ought to have a higher standard of life 
than many homes; (2) that college life is beset 
by special temptations; and (3) that in their 
homes young men are surrounded by older friends 
and little children. They are to be compared to 
grains of powder scattered through a barrel of 
sawdust, and in college the inflammable material 
is sifted out from the community and put by it- 
self, so that special vigilance is required to prevent 
excess. A graduate of Amherst, himself a distin- 
guished clergyman of the Congregational Church, 
writes : " No college can afford to lower its moral 
requirements to please anybody, and it cannot 
afford to imperil its students by allowing any who 
followed evil practices at home to indulge in them 
during their college life." Another graduate also 

143 



The Government of Students 

writes in a bold spirit that "the college has the 
right to demand of students, in the matter of 
drinking, for instance, conduct not required in the 
home, if the college has, or proposes to have, any 
character itself. If the student smokes, drinks, or 
swears at home, a fortiori, he ought to be taught 
better in college." A professor in a New England 
college says : 

I think the deterioration in college life is due to the 
change in the commnnity. Cards and spreads were not 
countenanced in old times, and the same was true of danc- 
ing, smoking, and social evils. I believe cards hurt our 
students worse than aU else put together, but even the 
ministers of to-day are experts at whist, certainly the pro- 
fessors. The country is wealthy, and it is the rich people 
that bring these evils upon us. It is not that I consider 
cards, dancing, and smoking wrong, but they take away 
interest in study. You cannot prohibit them : you must 
rely upon moral suasion. Do not appoint professors who 
think more of these things than of their studies. En- 
courage Y. M. C. A. and healthful exercise. 

Another graduate, who is at the head of one of 
the missionary boards of one of the great churches, 

says: 

If the conduct of a student is such as to affect unhap- 
pily the character of the college, I should say that the 
coUege had the right by all means to exact from that 
student different conduct, whatever his home life may be. 
I feel that our colleges should show a life and character 
with more sinew than can be found in a great many of 
our homes. 

144 



The Government of students 

Further testimoiiy is derived also frora another 
graduate of Amherst College, who is also at the 
head of one of the great home missionary organi- 
zations : 

I should hold the opinion that the college has the right 
to require of students conduct which may not be de- 
manded in their homes in so far as the welfare of the 
college seems to demand it. There are habits which 
may be allowed in the home, with the home influences 
around the boy, which may not be allowed with safety in 
college when the boy is out from under the watch and 
care of parents. 

But, on the other side, it is said that colleges have 
no right to exact from their students conduct which 
their homes do not demand. The judge of the 
Probate Court and Court of Insolvency of one of 
the large counties of Massachusetts writes : 

Colleges should not exact total abstinence from drink- 
ing, smoking, card-playing, dancing, and other things not 
wrong per se. The professor of hygiene may lecture on 
the evils of excess in any of these habits, but the coUege 
should not interfere unless such habits prevent the stu- 
dent's attaining the minimum standard of scholarship 
and deportment. 

A professor in a divinity school says : 

I think that the college has the right to have its own 
standard of personal conduct, irrespective of the home 
habits of students ; but I should hesitate to make that a 
punishable offense which in the best (morally best) society 
was looked upon as a thoroughly innocent indulgence. 



10 



H5 



The Government ofSUidents 

The expressed wish of a parent in such matters would 
seem to be entitled to some consideration. When I was 
a member of the Faculty of Antioch College, under the 
presidency of Horace Mann, the habit of profane swear- 
ing was made a bar to graduation, and card-playing by 
the students was prohibited ; but Mr. Mann attempted in 
general the maintenance of a higher ethical standard 
among his students than has been thought feasible in 
most other colleges. It must be confessed that in these 
efforts he was in no small degree successful. 

A gentleman, himself able and distinguished, and 
the son and grandson of able and distinguished 
statesmen, writes upon this point, saying : 

AH the college has the right to exact from students 
in the matter of drinking, for example, is a fair degree 
of temperance and respect for the public. Exceptional 
cases of disorder should be ruthlessly weeded out. Ex- 
cept where these cases appear, the students should be 
allowed to conduct themselves in such way as thej^ see fit. 

A professor in an eminent law school says : 

Certain rules as to conduct, e.g., against the keeping 
of wines or liquors in college rooms, may be permissible, 
though I think such prohibitions should be established 
with caution ; but I should think any attempt to denounce 
as immoral practices which students have been in the 
habit of seeing indulged in by the persons whom they 
most respect in the community in which they have lived, 
such as smoking, drinking, card-playing, however well 
intended such denunciations be, would be pretty certain 
to have an evil result. 

146 



The Government of Students 

And also a distinguished citizen of Boston, a short 
time before his death, wrote as follows : 

Several rules tending to good conduct, as, for example, 
the forbidding of the use of liquor in college rooms, 
would seem proper, as showing the opinion and influence 
of the college on the subject, but in a general way one of 
the most important objects is to teach the students self- 
restraint and self-government rather than to make them 
correct by compulsion. It has been discovered that stu- 
dents entering from the most precise and closely regu- 
lated schools are, in the largest proportion, " wild " when 
they get to college. 

I have thus at length set forth opposite opinions 
respecting the right of the college to exact of stu- 
dents methods of conduct which the home does not 
demand. The general question, the two sides of which 
are thus represented through these testimonies, has 
its quickest application to the question of the use 
of liquors. Shall the college endeavor to promote 
total abstinence among its students, or shall it en- 
deavor to promote temperance ? In other words, 
shall it, through the practice of its officers, indi- 
cate that it is well, if they so desire, for men to 
partake temperately of liquor, or shall it, through 
the example and practice of its professors, indicate 
that total abstinence is the only rule for the high- 
est type of self-respecting gentlemen to follow? 
Upon this point I can have no question but that 
the best rule for the American college, through 
the person of its officers, to set is the example of 
total abstinence. The primary reason for this 

147 



The Government of Students 

judgment lies in the fact that the reputation of a 
college of the most temperate indulgence in liquor 
by its officers hurts that college in the judgment 
of a large body of the American people. That 
this reputation does hurt the college there can be 
no doubt. Whether with reason or without rea- 
son, many homes would decline to send their sons 
to colleges which did possess this reputation. It is 
the duty of the officers of a college to see to it that 
in every possible way the reputation of that col- 
lege shall be of the worthiest. 

I was riding, a little while ago, in the smoking- 
room of a car, when a distinguished gentleman, a 
professor in a very conspicuous American college, 
coming into the smoking-room, began his cigar. 
He at once said to me, " I suppose you do not object 
to my smoking." Of course I replied in the nega- 
tive. But he added, " I suppose you do not smoke." 
I also said I did not, and I inquired, " I am inter- 
ested to know why you say, ' I suppose you do not 
smoke.' " His answer was, " I think a college Pres- 
ident should not smoke." The reasons which would 
lead my distinguished friend to the opinion that 
the college President should not smoke would also 
lead him to think that the college President should 
not drink. Upon this simple ground of reputation 
total abstinence should be the rule among the 
officers of a college. 

But upon this point a college may prefer to 
make its own choices. It may prefer to minis- 
ter only to those who do wish their children to 
be brought up in the temperate use of liquors. 

148 



The Government of Students 

A father is under no compulsion to send a son 
to any one college. If he wish his boy to be 
brought up in the temperate use of liquor, it is 
fitting for him to send his son to a college in 
which the temperate use of liquor is advised. 
Let him adjust his boy to the desired college condi- 
tion, and let the college adjust itself to the desires 
of parents. In one of our cities before the war 
was a church in which the minister was accustomed 
to defend slave-holding. He at once made for 
himself a constituency, and the constituency sup- 
ported that minister. In the same way it may be 
fitting, and much might be said in favor of the 
proposition, for parents who wish their sons to be 
brought up in the temperate use of liquor to send 
them to a college in which this method is re- 
garded as the best method for the development of 
character. 

I suppose it must be said that there is no method 
by which every boy going to college can be saved 
from evil. The Author of our being endeavors 
apparently in every possible way to save men from 
sin. What the Author of our being has failed to 
do it is pretty certain the college cannot" succeed in 
doing. In any system of moral government it is 
apparently true that some will make evil choices, 
and must suffer the results of such choices. In 
any system of college government it is probably 
true that some will go to the bad ; but these results 
occurring in the colleges do not at all militate 
against a free and large treatment of individual 
students. The divine Author of our being has 

149 



The Government of Students 

seen fit to give to us freedom of will and, to a 
degree, of action, although knowing in advance 
that some would abuse this freedom and would 
suffer evil consequences ; but, on the whole, it is 
apparently the rule to give to men freedom, though 
knowing that freedom would be to some a very- 
expensive luxury, rather than to make all pup- 
pets under His control, even if no harm were to 
result through such direction. Let the American 
college believe that its students come to its halls 
with high purposes, with characters directed to- 
ward righteousness, eager to learn the truth, sus- 
ceptible to personal influences, and willing to lend 
themselves to the best relationships of the college. 
The life that the students live in such an atmos- 
phere is the best life itself, and is also the prepara- 
tion for the best life. 

With each passing generation the freedom 
belonging to the American college student in- 
creases, and it ought to increase. This freedom 
represents what is by common testimony an ap- 
parent confession that the college students of to- 
day are better men than the college students of 
thirty and forty years ago. A professor in Johns 
Hopkins University, writing of his own college, 
Amherst, says : 

College life nowadays seems to me more healthy than 
it was in my student days. I ascribe the fact to the 
gradual blending of student life with a larger social life, 
which is always saner and sounder than that of monastic 
communities and college halls, where young men are 
thought to he secluded from the world. Old-time college 

150 



The Government of Students 

life was barbaric and uncivilized compared witli that of 
the outside world. The sooner students are taught to be 
citizens and members of society the better it will be for 
colleges and for the country. I think the highest type 
of education is to be found only in a city university, 
where the student is in the world, but not of it. The 
country college is perhaps better for boys and for ath- 
letics, but country seclusion is by no means an ideal con- 
dition for student morals. 

A friend, writing to me of his college, says that 
after a careful observation of his own class he had 
come to the conclusion that eighty-five per cent, 
of his classmates were morally clean. Twenty 
years ago I know that hardly fifty per cent, of the 
men in the senior class were morally clean. The 
change has been great and in every respect sal- 
utary. 

The newspapers teem from time to time with 
reports of the frolics and escapades or the deviltries 
and sins and crimes of college boys. Such reports 
are usually exaggerations, but it is to be at once 
said that the personal morals of college men are 
far superior to the personal morals of any body of 
young men of equal size outside of the college. A 
distinguished graduate of Harvard writes me, 
saying : 

The moral tone of college life among the students in 
my day was, to the best of my judgment, distinctly better 
than the moral tone of young men of the same age out- 
side of college walls. There were dissipated young men 
there then, as there are dissipated young men there now ; 
but the dissipation of young men outside the college walls 

151 



The Government of Students 

waSj in. my judgment, distinctly lower, more vulgar, and 
more degrading than that of those inside them. 

A professor in Iowa College says : 

As a teacher during forty-five years, I must say that 
the average student is noticeably superior to the non-stu- 
dent in life and in character. "Were this not so I should 
be tempted to the most profound pessimism ; as it is, 
however, I am able to indulge only in the most cheerful 
optimism. 

The college man now represents the finest type of 
yonng manhood. He will grow yet better with 
each passing generation. Worthy freedom under 
worthy conditions represents the best method and 
agency. 



152 



VI 
FINANCIAL RELATIONS 



VI 
FINANCIAL RELATIONS 

I 

AMOUNT OF ENDOWMENT 

IN the United States are no less than twenty 
colleges, each having an income-producing 
property of at least $1,000,000. Among these are 
our two oldest colleges. Harvard, which has more 
than $10,000,000, and Yale, which has about 
$5,000,000. Columbia has an amount of property, 
largely real, that brings an annual revenue of at 
least $425,000; Cornell has about $6,000,000; the 
University of Chicago has $8,000,000 or more ; and 
Johns Hopkins has $3,000,000. The Northwestern 
University also has $3,000,000, and the University 
of Pennsylvania somewhat more than $2,500,000; 
Wesleyan University of Middletown, Connecti- 
cut, has more than $1,000,000, as also has Am- 
herst, as well as Boston University; Rochester 
University has about $1,200,000 ; Tulane Univer- 
sity of Louisiana is to be placed above the million 
mark, as are also Western Reserve University of 
Ohio, and Brown University of Rhode Island. 

155 



Financial Relations 

Besides these, as the list is not complete, but repre- 
sentative, several State universities are possessed 
of either funds or an income assured by the State 
representing property of at least $1,000,000. 
Among the wealthier of these universities are 
those of California, of Michigan, of Wisconsin, 
and of Minnesota. Of course the income-bearing 
property of these and other colleges increases: 
what is true of their property to-day will not be 
true to-morrow. 

The wealth, which is either actually or poten- 
tially possessed by several of these universities, 
that crown the educational system of their com- 
monwealths, is simply magnificent. It had its 
foundation in lands set aside for the support of 
education. Although certain parts of these public 
lands were, in the early settlement of these States, 
sold at a ridiculously low figure, yet, in the newer 
States, they are still held or have been sold at 
good prices. 

In the United States are about four hundred 
colleges reporting more or less fully to the National 
Bureau of Education. If, therefore, the number of 
colleges possessed of more than $1,000,000 each is 
so small, it is evident that the vast majority of our 
colleges are poor. The number of colleges which 
have each less than $200,000 in interest-bearing 
funds is considerably larger than the number of 
those which have more than $200,000. The latest 
reports show that all these colleges have at least 
$150,000,000, whence they derive the income for 
their support. It is made clear from the same 

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reports that, at the present time, the value of the 
grounds, buildings, and apparatus of these colleges 
is another $150,000,000. 

It is of special interest to know in what forms 
this sum of $150,000,000 is invested. In presenting 
the facts I make use of reports sent to me from be- 
tween one and two hundred of the representative 
colleges, and also of reports of presidents and 
treasurers of these colleges. From these reports I 
infer that at least four-fifths of all the productive 
funds of the colleges are invested in bonds and 
mortgages. Few colleges, and a few only, have a 
part of their endowment in stocks of any sort. A 
few of them, notably Columbia and Harvard, have 
invested largely in real estate. The facts as to 
certain representative colleges are illustrative. 
Cornell University has about $4,000,000 in bonds 
and about $2,000,000 in mortgages; Wabash has 
property of $362,000, of which $18,000 are in build- 
ings, $21,000 in bonds, $323,000 in mortgages ; the 
University of California has somewhat more than 
$2,000,000, equally divided between bonds and 
mortgages; Wesleyan University has $1,125,000, 
of which $81,000 are in real estate, $260,000 in 
bonds, $77,000 in stocks, $686,000 in mortgages; 
of the $3,000,000 possessed by Northwestern Uni- 
versity, $150,000 are represented in buildings, 
bonds, and mortgages, and the balance is embodied 
in lands and leases ; the property of the University 
of Pennsylvania, more than $2,500,000, is divided 
into $357,000 in buildings, $514,000 in bonds, 
$127,000 in stocks, $429,000 in mortgages, and the 

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remaining $1,000,000 is, as the treasurer describes, 
"in other values." Harvard's immense property 
is changed in the forms of its investments more 
frequently than the property of many colleges; 
but of its ten or more millions, railroad bonds and 
real estate represent the larger share, the amount 
of bonds exceeding the value of real estate. These 
figures are representative of general conditions, 
for changes are made every year and every month 
in college as in other investments. 

The college has no right to run financial risks; 
its funds are trust funds. Unlike certain other 
large investors, too, the college regards regularity 
in the receipt of its income as of extreme impor- 
tance. Its expenses consist largely of the cost of 
instruction. The gentlemen who give instruction 
are usually without other source of income than 
their salaries. The man worth a million may in- 
vest his million in bonds which may defer pay- 
ment of coupons five years without special 
inconvenience to himself. The college worth a 
million could not defer the interest of its bonds 
five years without disaster. Colleges cannot afford 
to have their income depend upon commercial 
fluctuations. 

President Eliot was asked, some years ago, why 
Harvard was putting so much money into real 
estate in Boston. His reply was that though the 
rate of income was low, — about four per cent., — 
and though the buildings were subjected to all 
sorts of charges, yet the increase in value served 
to make good, and more than good, the low rate 

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Financial Relations 

of income. Most colleges, however, have not seen 
fit to secure real estate for the purpose of produc- 
ing an income. Real estate represents, for most 
institutions, rather an annoying kind of invest- 
ment. Moreover, it cannot be denied that the in- 
come of most real estate is more or less contingent. 
We must grant, too, that the possibility of increase 
in the value of real property carries along with 
itself the possibility of decrease. 

On the whole, the securities which the colleges 
own are the best of the second order of investments. 
Colleges have few United States and few State and 
few municipal bonds; but they do own large 
amounts of the best railroad bonds and of the 
bonds of waterworks companies, somewhat also of 
the bonds of street-railways, and also small 
amounts of the bonds of the counties of Western 
States. As my eye runs down the list of securities 
of Cornell University, for instance, I find a record 
of county bonds in several Western States, as well 
as railroad bonds, but county bonds seem to pre- 
dominate. Turning to a college of quite a different 
position and history, Washington and Lee, in Vir- 
ginia, I find that, out of $628,000, $234,000 are 
invested in securities of the State of Virginia; 
that town and county bonds are represented by a 
few thousand dollars; and that railroads in the 
South represent the larger part of the balance. A 
college of a different environment and condition is 
Eochester University, New York. Of its $1,200,- 
000, $335,000 are in railroad bonds. 

The real-estate mortgages which colleges own 
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represent, in my judgment, a better class of in- 
vestments. These mortgages are, with certain 
exceptions, placed usually on property in the 
neighborhood of the college itself. The officers of 
the college, therefore, know the value of the secur- 
ity, and also the general responsibility of the 
owner who gives the mortgage. If a college is sit- 
uated in a city, its money is lent frequently on 
real property within the city itself. Adelbert Col- 
lege, of Western Reserve University, lends money 
on notes secured by mortgages on property in the 
city of Cleveland, and it lends little or none on 
property outside. If a college is located in a small 
town in a newer State of the West, it usually lends 
on the security offered by farms within a radius of 
fifty miles. Carleton College, in Minnesota, lends 
on mortgages placed on farms near Northfield; 
Iowa on farms near Grinnell; Wabash on mort- 
gages covering farms near Crawf ordsville ; and 
Ohio Wesleyan on mortgages on farms situated 
near Delaware. 

The New England colleges do not usually pos- 
sess the advantage of lending money in large 
amounts at good rates on mortgages on property 
located near by. Several of them have sent large 
amounts of money into the West, into Western 
cities, and on to Western farms. Several of these 
colleges have made these ventures in the face of 
great doubt on the part of their more conservative 
Trustees. But the security offered in a State like 
Minnesota may be as good as that offered in a 
State as old as Massachusetts; and the security 

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offered througli business property in Minneapolis 
may be better than that offered through a farm in 
Maine. The hinge of the whole matter is that the 
agent who invests funds for a college should be a 
good judge of values, both material and personal. 
A few colleges are known to me as having invested 
heavily a few years ago in mortgages on Western 
farms. The principal of not a few of these loans 
was too large. These colleges, therefore, have 
found themselves in difficulties through a failure 
of interest, and also through being obliged to pay 
the taxes on farms to save the farms from becom- 
ing absolutely lost ; and, alas ! it has proved to be 
better in certain cases to lose the farms. 

Among the questions which I have asked four 
hundred colleges is: "Do you know of college 
funds impaired through bad investments or 
through expenditure for current expenses ? " With 
only a few exceptions, the answer has been an ab- 
solute negative. One college treasurer says: "Of 
recent years our endowment funds have remained 
intact." Another treasurer writes: "We do not 
use college funds for current expenses, but have 
made some poor investments in Western lands." 
Another says : " Not to any extent." Another says : 
" In twenty-three years we have not impaired our 
funds through bad investments. We have used 
very little of the permanent fund for current ex- 
penses." Although few colleges may be able to 
return so good a report as comes from the Board 
of Regents of the University of California, — "Ex- 
penditures have never reached income ; we never 
11 i6i 



Financial Relations 

expend money or create financial obligations unless 
we have the money on hand or assured," — yet it is 
apparent that the funds of the American college 
have, on the whole, been well preserved. 

It is, therefore, just to infer that the great sum 
of $150,000,000 intrusted to the American colleges 
is invested well— well in point of security, well, 
also, in point of income. This result is secured 
through the ability of the colleges to call into their 
service the ablest financiers. The Trustees repre- 
sent the best brain and the purest character. 
Harvard College, the colleges in New York city, 
the colleges in Cleveland, the colleges in Chicago, — 
to go no farther West, — have been able to retain 
the services of the best men in their communities. 
The financial management of the colleges in the 
United States has, on the whole, been abler than 
the management of the banks of the United States. 
The University of California, for instance, never 
made a bad investment but once, and that of only 
$22,000. " We then," says a member of the Board 
of Regents, " bought bonds of that amount which 
had been pronounced good by the Supreme Court 
of this State. The same bonds were subsequently 
pronounced unconstitutional by another Supreme 
Court." In a word, there is no investment so safe, 
there is no investment so certain of rendering the 
service which it is ordained to render, as money 
intrusted to a well-established college. 

The American college is rich because of its en- 
richment made through its friends. It is only a 
money-receiving institution, not a money-making 

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agency. Occasionally a college lias tried to make 
money. In some instances the trial has resulted 
favorably, in other cases in loss. I now recall the 
case of a college, which, through the endeavor of 
a former President to make money by real-estate 
speculation, was driven to the brink of bank- 
ruptcy — a condition from which it has gallantly 
recovered. The lottery was a very common form 
of college beneficence in the early part of the cen- 
tury. Nearly all colleges then existing received 
money in this way. Stoughton Hall and Hol- 
worthy, at Cambridge, were erected from the pro- 
ceeds of lotteries. In fact, a lottery for the benefit 
of Harvard was established as early as 1745, and 
another in 1794 ; in the latter lottery the college 
held the lucky ticket and drew a prize of $10,000. 
On April 13, 1814, the legislature of the State of 
New York passed an act granting the following 
sums to three colleges and a church: to Union 
College $200,000, to Hamilton College $40,000, to 
the College of Physicians and Surgeons $30,000, 
and to Asbury African Church, New York, $4000. 
The State made these grants on the basis of secur- 
ing these sums from the proceeds of lotteries. 

The colleges are usually obliged to spend all their 
income year by year. Cornell has a unique way of 
reserving five per cent, of its estimated income of 
the coming year. If the year, when it is passed, 
show a surplus, the surplus goes into the fund 
available for the year yet to follow — as excellent a 
way as it is uncommon, and one quite certain of 
resulting in the abolition of the too common deficit, 

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Financial Relations 

For a deficit is common in the college budget. It 
is usually not large ; it is usually, too, made up at 
once by Trustees and friends : but it is common 
alike in the college and the church. I find only 
occasional instances in which the deficit is allowed 
to stand. " It is," one treasurer remarks, " carried 
over." But such carrying over is simply eating 
up one's seed-corn, and such devouring cannot 
continue long without disaster. 

Income is spent in two great forms — that of in- 
struction and that of administration. The divi- 
sion of expense between these two departments 
differs largely in different colleges. In the Uni- 
versity of California four-fifths of the income is 
devoted to instruction, one-fifth to administration : 
in Northwestern University seventy per cent, to 
instruction and thirty to administration. In the 
University of Michigan two-thirds goes to instruc- 
tion, one-third to administration. These figures, 
taken from reports of college treasurers, may, how- 
ever, represent different bases. It is a question, 
for instance, whether the salary of the President 
who gives a small amount of instruction, but whose 
duties are also administrative, should be charged 
to the account of instruction or of administration. 
Treasurers also differ as to whether repairs and in- 
surance are included in administration. It would 
be hard to include them in the cost of instruction. 
But these figures are sufficient to show that the 
large part of the income of each college is devoted 
to securing instruction. 

The salaries paid in the college are usually low. 
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Financial Relations 

" There are iron-mills in this country whose entire 
laboring force is paid at an average rate quite as 
high as that of the salaries paid by some of our 
colleges."^ The salary of the most highly paid 
professors in American colleges considered in the 
aggregate is about two thousand dollars, and the 
salary of other professors about fifteen hundred 
dollars. The average number of members in the 
Faculty of American colleges, taking one hundred 
and twenty-four colleges as a basis, is sixteen and 
one-half persons. These figures represent the 
point of the application of the largest part of the 
income of college funds. Two or three colleges are 
paying to a few teachers salaries of seven thousand 
dollars, and perhaps ten colleges are paying four 
thousand dollars at least. The present tendency is 
toward an increase of the highest salaries and toward 
a decrease of the stipend of new instructors. 

The increase in the funds of American colleges 
has been exceedingly rapid within the lifetime of 
the older men now living. In the year 1830 the first 
printed statement of the finances of Yale College 
was made. At that time the total productive fund, 
not including land, amounted to only $30,856.26. 
There were liabilities standing against the college 
amounting to $13,000. The net total productive 
fund of the college was, therefore, only $17,856.26. 
The total income from funds that year was 
$2673.66. In 1831 the receipts from all sources, 
including tuition, were $19,674.87; the expenses 

1 " The Pay of American College Professors," by President W. R. 
Harper, in "The Forum," Vol. XVI, p.l03. 

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Financial Relations 

were $20,208.38. In 1832 the receipts increased to 
eight cents more than $20,000, and the expenses 
increased to $23,028.87. The income from funds 
of 1832 was $2555.86. In 1879 the funds of the 
academical department had increased to $700,000, 
the funds of the theological department to 
about $300,000, of the Sheffield Scientific School 
to $165,000, of the Medical to a little over $21,000, 
and the University fund to a little over $230,000. 
The income from all sources for the year ending 
June 30, 1876, was over $300,000. In 1890 the 
entire productive funds of Yale College had in- 
creased to an amount double that possessed in 
1876, and since that time there have been great 
additions made, also, to its interest-bearing prop- 
erty. These additions still continue, and will con- 
tinue in enlarging sums. Harvard began to come 
into its wealth when it was far less old than Yale, 
but its riches in its first two centuries were rather 
poverty than wealth. The amount of money given 
to Harvard during the seventeenth century was 
£6134 16s. 10c?. The amount of money given to 
Harvard in the eighteenth century aggregated about 
£27,000. In the year 1840 the whole amount of 
the productive funds of the college was $646,235.17, 
and the entire income from all sources was $45,- 
535.71. At the present time the annual income 
from all sources of Harvard exceeds a million, and 
the addition annually made to its permanent funds 
in recent years has also exceeded a million dollars. 
By the side of these statements it is fitting to 
lay down statements as to the two great English 



Financial Relations 

universities. The reports show that for the year 
ending with December, 1893, the income of the 
University of Oxford, apart from the colleges, was 
almost £66,000, and the income of her twenty col- 
leges was £439,606, ranging from £7192 at Hert- 
ford College, to nearly £60,000 at Magdalen College 
and Christ Church — an average of £21,980 to each 
college. The income of the University of Cam- 
bridge is not stated in the reports made to the 
Vice-Chancellor, but the income of her seventeen 
colleges was £295,247, ranging from £4119 at Mag- 
dalen College to £76,523 at Trinity — an average 
of £17,367 to each college. The income of the 
wealthier colleges of these universities, drawn from 
funds, is far in excess of the income of the wealth- 
ier American colleges derived from the same 
source. The income of the less wealthy is about 
the same as that of the ordinary New England 
college.^ 

The Grerman university is more of a state insti- 
tution than the English university. The govern- 
ment is directly pledged to its support. At least 
three Grerman universities, Leipzig, Heidelberg, and 
Grreifswald, have property of their own, but the 
larger part draw their annual revenue from the 
governmental chest. Professors are paid both from 
this fund and from the fees of students. 

It has long been the judgment of the writer that 

1 These statements are based on "Abstracts of the Accounts," 
published in the ease of Cambridge in the " University Reporter, " 
and in the case of Oxford by the Clarendon Press ; and on compen- 
diums made by Professor B. A. Hinsdale of the University of 
Michigan, and published in the "University Record." 

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Financial Relations 

I colleges should publish each year, for distribution 
among their constituents, a complete and detailed 
statement of their financial condition and rela- 
tions. Colleges are public institutions. If the ma- 
jority of them are legally and technically private 
corporations, they essentially belong to the people. 
They appeal to the people for endowment and also 
for the privilege of offering instruction. They 
have no proper right to make an appeal for funds 
to the people unless they exhibit to the people the 
use that they have made of funds already received. 
It cannot be doubted that such a public statement 
would tend to awaken public confidence in the 
financial integrity and ability of the college. The 
evil influence of occasional lapses is overcome by 
the generally excellent record of investment. Let 
the American college take the American people 
into its confidence, and it will find it much easier 
to get hold of the American purse. 

I venture to make a further suggestion as to the 

method of investment. Among the questions 

which I have asked the colleges is this: "Are 

funds, given for certain specific purposes, in- 

- vested by themselves, or are all funds pooled in 

I general investments, the bookkeeping showing 

1 where specific funds belong ? " Colleges range them- 
selves on each side of the answer to this question. 
3 Many colleges invest amounts given for specific 
. purposes by and of themselves ; but certain ones 
I do "pool" all moneys, although the bookkeeping 
' shows where specific funds are. It certainly would 
be better, for certain reasons, to invest funds 

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Finaficial Relations 

given for specific purposes by themselves ; for, in 
the course of centuries, funds that are thus put 
into one common box might fail of the specific 
purpose for which they were intended. Such limi- 
tations might occasionally result in less income, 
but they would result also, I think, in a larger de- 
gree of confidence in the power of the American 
college to keep its specific obligations. Yet funds 
invested separately run a greater risk of being 
completely lost, for it is hard to conceive of the 
general endowment becoming seriously impaired, 
but it is easy to conceive that a single fund might 
be entirely lost. 

II 

OKIGIN AND CONDITIONS OF ENDOWMENT 

Of the large amount of money which each year 
is given by men in the cause of beneficence, only 
a very small share is the result of inheritance. 
Every dollar has usually been earned and saved by 
the giver of that dollar. If one should set down 
the names of fifty men who are distinguished for 
works of charity, not more than ten would be 
found to have inherited the larger part of the 
wealth which they bestow. The reason is not far 
to seek and is manifold. Inherited wealth usually 
brings along with itseK burdens. It inherits houses 
in city and country which must be kept open, and 
yachts which must be kept sailing, or at least in 
repair. It inherits dependents and dependencies 

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Financial Relations 

of various sorts which must be supported. It in- 
herits a scale of expenditure which cannot easily 
be changed. Inherited wealth, too, is frequently 
invested in forms of property which make but a 
small percentage of returns. Inherited wealth sel- 
dom increases in that ratio in which it was origi- 
nally made. The heir, too, of inherited wealth 
may not feel that freedom in the bestowal of it 
which he would feel in the use of riches which he 
himself had created. 

The wealth which has founded and endowed col- 
leges, which has built libraries and art museums, 
which has established institutions for practical 
education, and hospitals for the sick, and parks for 
the strong, has been, and usually is, wealth which 
its possessor and giver had himself made. An ex- 
ception is at once to be made in the case of women. 
I have said that the large amount of the money 
that men give in beneficence is money which they 
themselves have saved, but the larger part of 
wealth which women bestow in beneficence is 
wealth which they themselves have inherited. As 
society is now constituted women are not makers 
of money, and as society is now constituted, and 
is becoming more and more constituted, women 
are the receivers and the givers of money. The 
larger part of the money which women are using 
in beneficence is money which they have inherited 
from their husbands or fathers. And, be it said, 
fully one-third of the money that is given to-day 
in charity or education is given by women. 
Women are becoming the possessors of great 

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Financial Relations 

property, and they are also becoming the great 
benefactors of humanity. 

Some of the characteristics of the wealth that 
has been bestowed for public uses and for educa- 
tional uses are significant. 

It is, of course, to be said that wealth given in 
large amounts is given from wealth possessed in 
large amounts. Great beneficences are drawn from 
great fortunes. It is also to be said that these 
great fortunes have been created in almost every 
one of the great commercial undertakings of the 
modern world. As one's eye runs over the list 
it is found that the building and administration 
of railways, the manufacture of lumber, of iron, 
of cloths (cotton and woolen), of thread, of beer, of 
sugar, of leather, of glue, of flour, the refining of 
oil, the packing of meat, and the sailing of ships 
and the carrying of packages by express, repre- 
sent the larger part of the processes by which these 
fortunes have been made. Of all these and of the 
other various forms of endeavor, railroads, lumber, 
iron, and oil represent the accumulations which 
have most largely contributed to human better- 
ment. They embody enterprises of many and 
complex relationships. They require in their ad- 
ministration the highest qualities of human char- 
acter. Soundness of judgment, foresight, boldness, 
independence of will, appreciation of public needs 
and desires, and the power to make many and fre- 
quently divergent interests converge to one su- 
preme end, are elements of the mind required for 
the carrying forward of such great undertakings 

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Financial Relations 

as continental railroads, as immense iron-mines 
and -foundries, and as the diverse and tremendous 
operations in the lumber and oil industries. Trade 
has not proved to be so large a source of benefi- 
cence as manufacturing, and, outside of two or 
three donations or bequests, the professions have 
not made large contributions of monej^- to human 
betterment. Possibly the business of banking 
ought to rank next to the kinds of business that 
I have noted as being the largest sources of 
beneficence ; for banking has been, indirectly and 
directly, a source of large income. Not a few of 
the benefactors who have made their homes in 
Baltimore, and who laid the foundations of their 
fortunes in shipping or mercantile pursuits, have 
increased their holdings through engaging in the 
business of banking. The banking business has 
contributed large amounts to Columbia University 
and Drexel Institute, to Union Theological Sem- 
inary, to Yale College and to Harvard. It is not 
to be forgotten that Mr. Greorge Peabody, the 
earliest of the general and great benefactors, made 
his large fortune largely in banking. The indus- 
tries that have furnished large endowments are 
those of oil (to the University of Chicago and to 
Pratt Institute in Brooklyn), of lumber (to Cor- 
nell), and that of iron (in the foundation of music- 
halls, art museums, and libraries which bear the 
name of Carnegie). The sugar industry is the 
source of large beneficence to Columbia University 
and the University of Pennsylvania. Mr. Payer- 
weather made the millions which he gave to 

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Financial Relations 

twenty and more institutions of learning in the 
business of tanning. Tlie making of reapers and 
harvesters represents the financial foundation of 
the theological seminary in Chicago which bears 
the name of McCormick, and the gift of half a mil- 
lion dollars to Northwestern University. Harvard 
has, in the middle part of the present century, and 
again more recently through the benefactions of 
Edward Austin, received great gifts from the 
China and East India trade. In fact, in the earlier 
decades of the century, the China and East India 
trade was almost the only means for making great 
amounts of money, and the colleges, in common 
with ah charities, were beneficiaries of it. In the 
last half of the century the railroad has supplanted 
the ship as a means of making money both for its 
owner and for the cause of charity. The railroad 
has been, on the whole, the source of the largest 
amount of beneficence. 

The great gifts to colleges have usually been 
made by those who are not themselves graduates 
of colleges. In the former time most college gradu- 
ates entered the professions, and, therefore, were 
not in the way of securing fortunes sufficiently 
ample to warrant the bestowal of large sums in 
charity. In fact, the absence of college names is 
rather significant. Although in the earlier time 
college men were not money-makers, in the last 
ten or fifteen years they have been entering 
kinds of business which are remunerative. From 
a third to a fifth of the graduates of our colleges 
are now becoming members of the money-making 

173 



Financial Relations 

callings. But it may be said that most of these 
graduates have not been long enough in business 
to become benefactors. It will be interesting to 
see whether those who have been beneficiaries of 
our colleges, coming to possess ample means of their 
own, will themselves become benefactors. About 
one-half of the great benefactions which Har- 
vard College has received in the last thirty years 
has been made by those who are its sons. But 
the simple fact is that at the present time the 
names which represent the largest benefactors of 
the colleges are the names of those who have arisen 
from penury to the possession of large wealth. 
Not long ago the founder of the University of 
Chicago was working in Cleveland for a salary of 
five hundred dollars. The builder of the library 
for one of the universities of Ohio said to me 
that he came to Cleveland with just a dollar in his 
purse. Dr. D. K. Pearsons, who has given several 
million dollars to a score of institutions from the 
Columbia to the Connecticut, went into the West 
with hardly more than a bare competency. Has 
not Andrew Carnegie, too, told us of his working 
for a few dollars a week? Did not Mr. and Mrs. 
Williston of Easthampton begin by covering but- 
tons by hand? With a spare suit of clothes and 
a few dollars in his pocket, Ezra Cornell entered 
Ithaca on foot, having walked from his father's 
house, a distance of about forty miles.^ And 
the great associates of Cornell in the establish- 
ment of the university bearing his name were 

1 Biography of Ezra Cornell, p. 45. 
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Financial Relations 

with a single exception originally as poor in purse 
as was he. It is to the men of the self-made type 
that the American college and all American char- 
ities are most deeply indebted. These benefactors 
have often expressed the thought that they had 
given money to colleges in order that life might be 
easier for boys and girls than it had been for them- 
selves, and that the boys and girls of the future 
might have more worthy care than they them- 
selves had enjoyed. The man who has had a col- 
lege education appreciates it much. I sometimes 
think that a man who has not had a college educa- 
tion appreciates it even more, and is therefore 
willing to do more in order that others may have 
an education than the man who has himself en- 
joyed it is willing to do. 

The mental and moral conditions out of which 
have been created great fortunes are the conditions 
also out of which have come the great gifts or be- 
quests from these fortunes. If foresight and judg- 
ment and energy are required to make great 
amounts of money, foresight and judgment are no 
less required in the worthy bestowal of large gifts. 
Judge F. M. Finch, in making a memorial address 
on Henry Williams Sage, said: "He learned his 
lessons thoroughly: every man in his place and 
every duty at its time ; perfect method and rigor- 
ous system everywhere; the rule of a master, 
kindly but resolute and unflinching; nothing too 
small to be overlooked ; never an atom of waste in 
any direction ; tireless industry ; utter devotion to 
the task in hand ; no pardon for laziness ; no en- 

175 



Financial Relations 

durance of careless neglect ; every moment utilized, 
and every hour brimmed with its work. That was 
the training which he had and the lesson of man- 
hood that he learned. It left indelible marks upon 
his life, sure to show themselves in his after 
career."^ Such qualities of vigor, alertness, can- 
dor, foresight, and economy are the qualities ever 
necessary for the bestowing of wealth. The wise 
man seldom gives in a hurry. If he does, he usu- 
ally lives to repent his haste. The wise man gives 
with large vision and exact knowledge of all con- 
ditions. I know of a gentleman who had deter- 
mined to give away more than half a million 
dollars in educational beneficence. His lawyer has 
recited to me the care that was taken in determin- 
ing the purposes for which the wealth should be 
given, and, when the purposes had been deter- 
mined, in selecting what agency should be chosen 
to carry out the purposes. The charters of the 
institutions, the laws of the States in which they 
were situated, the personality of the boards of 
trust, the methods followed by the boards of 
trust in the investment of funds — these and simi- 
lar matters were examined for a long time and 
with much care. It is known that for years previ- 
ous to the foundation of the University of Chi- 
cago, the leaders of the Baptist Church in the 
United States were questioning as to the best place 
to establish a national university under the charge 
of the Baptist Church. The choosing of Chicago 

1 "In Memory of Henry Williams Sage" (published by Cornell 
University, 1898), p. 32. 

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Financial Relations 

was the result of long and serious deliberation. 
The announcement of the great benefactions of 
Mr. D. B. Fay er weather was a surprise to the 
whole country, and even to his nearest neighbors ; 
but years previous to his death Mr. Fayerweather 
had consulted Dr. Roswell D. Hitchcock with ref- 
erence to many of the colleges which he made his 
beneficiaries. America is distinguished for the 
public beneficence of its rich men ; but it is always 
and clearly to be said that the rich men of America 
who give money to public uses usually give it with 
the same foresight and judgment in and through 
which they have acquired the same wealth. 

It is also to be said that the beneficence to the 
American college or to any institution of public 
welfare is usually local. The largest part of the 
money is given by men who live in the neighbor- 
hood of the institution which is benefited. Most 
of the money, except that bestowed by its great 
benefactor, given to the University of Chicago has 
come from Chicago. The largest part of the 
money that has been received by Columbia in 
recent years has come from New York. The 
largest part of the money given to Harvard has 
come from Boston. The largest part of the money 
given to Western Reserve and Adelbert has had 
its source in Cleveland. It is significant that of 
the million and a third raised for the Sesquicenten- 
nial Fund of Princeton not a single dollar is re- 
ported as having been given by anybody resident 
in New England. The gifts to Leland Stanford 
University came, of course, from the gift of one 

12 1^7 



Financial Relations 

who converted his home into a site for the uni- 
versity ; and the beneficences of the University of 
California have come quite largely from those liv- 
ing in or near San Francisco. Of course there are 
exceptions to this rule as to the local character of 
beneficences. These exceptions are usually found 
in the cases of the new mission colleges. Colleges 
founded in the new States or in new cities must 
secure their endowment from the old States and 
the older cities. The newer parts of the country 
draw upon the older for capital quite as much for 
beneficence as for the equipping of farms, the 
building of blocks, and the establishing of factories. 

The motives which lead to educational or other 
beneficence are, of course, manifold. There are 
general motives, and there are special and specific 
motives. 

The general motives are summed up in the one 
phrase— the desire to do good ; and possibly this mo- 
tive is the one which moves the largest number of 
givers. The individual desires to give away some 
money in order to do good, and to him the chief 
question is to whom or to what shall he trust his 
funds. For we are never to forget that money is, 
in a sense, one's outer self. It represents the brain 
and the heart and the life of the possessor and of the 
bestower. Money takes on intellectual and moral 
character. It is the microcosm of the modern 
world. If it came out of brain, it buys brain ; if it is 
the result of character, it trains character ; if it rep- 
resents enthusiasm, pluck, economy, temperance, 
it trains these qualities. It is a sign and symbol 

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of civilization. He who has it has the power of 
creating civihzation and of enhancing the value of 
civilization through its bestowal. If what one of 
the Biblical writers says, that " the love of money 
is the root of all evil," is true, it is also true that 
the use of money is a root of good. 

In addition to the general motive, special ones 
are of constant force. The memorial motive is 
frequent and significant. In not a few cases the 
memorial purpose has been chief in the mind of 
the giver. In other instances it has been to him 
quite unconscious, but those whom he has made 
trustees of his beneficence have recognized the 
memorial purposes. Three colleges of Maine 
bear the names of early benefactors or founders, 
and the name of one of these colleges was changed 
from the name of the place of its location to the 
name of its great benefactor — Colby. Dartmouth, 
Williams, Brown, Smith, as well as Harvard and 
Yale, bear into the future the names either of their 
founders or of those who were intimately asso- 
ciated with the building of the colleges. Most col- 
leges are named either after the places of their 
location or after their chief benefactors. Either 
designation is fitting. 

A college in asking that the name of its great 
benefactor be given to itself is asking only what is 
intrinsically fitting. The giver, too, of a great gift 
is not unduly influenced when he gives with the 
thought or with the expressed condition that the 
foundation which he makes be regarded either as 
a memorial to his family or to some member of 

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Financial Relations 

that family. Of course, when a college itself be- 
comes a memorial, it is obliged to face the inevi- 
table consequences of the cessation of gifts from 
other sources for a long time. It requires a high 
degree of gracionsness, in a world which offers 
manifold opportunities for doing good through 
large giving, to bestow gifts which result in the 
enhancement of the value of family memorials. 
But in a generation the special character of a 
memorial foundation becomes less and less distinct. 
It was almost a generation after Matthew Vassar 
made his foundation before other large gifts were 
made, and some of these were from those who bore 
his own name. If Johns Hopkins University had 
not borne the name of its founder, the citizens of 
Baltimore might have been more generally liberal 
to it. If Chicago University were bearing the 
name of its founder, a great many people of 
Chicago who have given of their wealth would 
have been reluctant to support it. But the years 
bring obscurity to the memorial character of a gift. 
Who would think that in giving to the University 
at Cambridge he was laying a stone in the monu- 
ment of John Harvard, or that in giving to the 
college at Hanover he was making the name and 
fame of Lord Dartmouth more conspicuous, or 
that in giving to Brown he was prolonging the sig- 
nificance of that family in Rhode Island and na- 
tional affairs ? 

Seen from the point of view of the one making 
the memorial, a gift to a college is most fitting. A 
memorial should be lasting, and should be beauti- 

i8o 



Fmanctal Relations 

ful in its conception and circumstances. The col- 
lege is among the most lasting, if not the most 
lasting, of human institutions; and the college 
stands for that which is holy and noble and great. 
A memorial should have, too, in addition to these 
qualities of endurance and of beauty, the purpose 
of the largest and highest influence. Among 
all the institutions of mankind, what can be more 
useful or what is more useful than a college? 
These principles and purpose receive an illustration 
in the raising of a hundred thousand dollars as a 
memorial to Colonel George E. Waring. The in- 
come of this sum is to be given to the family of 
Colonel Waring, and when their need of it has 
ceased, it goes to Columbia University to be held 
in a fund bearing the name of the great citizen, 
the income of which is to be used in giving in- 
struction in the science and art of governing cities. 
The endeavor to raise a large sum of money to 
found a college in the Sudan in memory of Greneral 
Gordon represents the best memorial to that in- 
trepid spirit. 

A motive or a condition which is often recog- 
nized in the making of gifts is the desire for the 
continuance or for the enlargement of the work 
with which one has been associated. The Trustees 
of a college are in not a few instances its most gen- 
erous benefactors; for, above all other men, they 
know its needs, the care that is taken in the invest- 
ment of funds and in the expenditure of their in- 
come, and they also know of the value which 
money given to a college possesses. The gifts of 

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Financial Relations 

Mr. Henry Williams Sage to Cornell, of Mr. D. 
Willis James to Amherst, and of the two or three 
families that have long been associated with Prince- 
ton to that university, have arisen, at least in part, 
from the wish to aid at the present and in the 
future in the work of a college which they have 
already promoted. In fact, the tendency to what 
I may call the accumulation of gifts is a character- 
istic prevailing among givers and among their 
beneficiaries. The object to which one has given 
one usually continues to aid. Grifts, like invest- 
ments and like rivers, flow in the channels which 
through the centuries they have cut for themselves. 
The religious and educational motive is also a 
power in college beneficence. The religious and 
denominational foundation of most colleges has 
called out Christian love and enthusiasm. In 
being a denominational college a college places 
certain limitations upon the field whence it can 
naturally and easily draw funds; but if it limit 
the extent of the field, it may thus tend to strengthen 
and deepen the claims which it may make upon its 
supporters. The Congregational colleges which 
have been founded in the last fifty years in the 
immediate wake of the westward civilization, have 
drawn the larger part of their support, in their first 
decades, from Boston and New England. The rea- 
son is that Boston and New England are, in their 
denominational relations, largely Congregational. 
The money for the Presbyterian colleges that 
have been founded in the last fifty years in the 
newer States has been derived largely from the 

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Financial Relations 

Presbyterian centers of New York and Phila- 
delphia. The names of conspicuous members of 
these churches are affixed to colleges in Minnesota, 
Nebraska, Kansas, Illinois, and other great States. 
The religious motive is of highest importance. A 
profound religious enthusiasm, united with a wise 
foresight, has promoted the foundation of colleges 
not only for the preservation and progress of the 
community, but also for the enlargement and the 
enrichment of the great bodies of the Christian 
church. Both as a cause and as a result, every 
church of strength founds and endows colleges, and, 
too, both as a result and as a cause, every college 
of strength strengthens the churches of its name. 

As society develops, and as the means for its 
improvement enlarge and become more diverse, 
the place which the denominational motive plays 
in beneficence naturally lessens. The human and 
the humanitarian motive comes to be more signifi- 
cant. For it is recognized that the great needs of 
the community can be filled, and filled most com- 
pletely, through the college. The supreme need 
of the world to-day is the need of educated leader- 
ship. America, in particular, demands men of 
judgment. If the conscience of the American 
needs correcting somewhat, the mind of the Amer- 
ican needs enlightenment more. The judgment 
which the world needs to exercise in all of its 
great affairs is a judgment which the college is set 
to train, and which the college man should embody 
above every other member of the community. 
This judgment possesses certain significant ele- 

183 



Financial Relations 

ments. This judgment embodies largeness and 
a proper estimate of values, the power to see units, 
and out of units to construct unities. It embraces 
every scientific application of observation and 
every philosophical application of inference. It 
is a judgment deliberate and deliberative, sane^ 
large, as remote from being influenced by the idols 
of the market-place, of the forum, and of the vot- 
ing-booth as it is remote from the smallness of 
dilettantism. It works with the accuracy of instru- 
ments of precision. It moves in inductions that 
are no less than transcendental. It is a judg- 
ment which helps one to see the principal as prin- 
cipal and the subordinate as subordinate. It is a 
judgment which gives contentment and inspira- 
tion, humility and the sense of strength. It is 
is a judgment which results in adjustment, making 
one a citizen of the world without making one less 
a patriot. It is a judgment, too, which means self- 
understanding and the understanding of all. It is 
a judgment primarily intellectual, and yet it is not 
simply intellectual. It is a judgment in which the 
emotions have a proper play and place, and yet it 
is not simply emotional. It is a judgment result- 
ing in action, yet it is something more by far than 
mere volition. It is a judgment in which con- 
science has a supreme part, but it represents more 
than a dictate of conscience narrowly interpreted. 
Such judgment a college graduate, above other 
members of the community, is fitted to offer and to 
use. Each study of the college makes an offering 
toward its enrichment. Language gives it discrim- 

184 



Financial Relations 

ination, freedom, and aptitude; science gives to 
it the sense of order and a respect for law ; philos- 
ophy gives to it self-confidence, breadth of vision, 
toleration. It — this power of judgment — is more 
useful than the appreciation of beauty. It is the 
basis of social life and of good manners. It is the 
soul of conduct. It is the crown of intellectual 
manhood and womanhood. It is an essential ele- 
ment in individual character. It is the queen in 
civilized society. A man who goes through college 
and trains in himself a judgment of this power, is 
doing much to fill the direst and deepest need of 
humanity, and the man who endows the college 
that it may train such judgment in the largest and 
fullest ways, is also doing much for humanity. 

About one-half of the wealth that is bestowed 
in beneficence is the result of bequests, and about 
one-half also is the result of gifts. The proportion 
differs, of course, in different years, but it is to be 
said that the amount given during the lifetime of 
the giver is increasing. It cannot be at all ques- 
tioned which method is the better. For the sake 
of the security of the gift, of its use in the precise 
ways which the donor intends, for the sake of the 
pleasure which the giver may himself receive from 
his giving, it cannot be questioned for one moment 
but that the giver should give in his own lifetime. 
The uncertainty of the validity of wills is a most 
serious matter in modern society. When a lawyer 
so astute as Samuel J. Tilden, or a judge so wise as 
Chancellor Kent, draw wills which are set aside in 
a greater or less extent, it is apparent that much 
"*" 185 



Financial Relations 

uncertainty must attend tlie making of any testa- 
ment. But it is also to be said, on the other side, 
that the desire to retain property is strong, and also 
the need of the income or the principal of property 
may be absolute. In this case, if one wish to be 
absolutely assured of the proper use of his prop- 
erty, he can usually bestow it upon a college and 
receive a specific income from it during his life- 
time. 

What has been called the conditional method of 
giving has become so common that it should re- 
ceive special mention. This method consists simply 
in that the making of one gift is conditioned upon 
the making of certain other gifts. For instance, 
Mr. John D. Rockefeller promises to give the 
University of Chicago two millions of dollars in 
the course of four years, provided that an equal 
sum is given by others in the same time. It 
is well known that this conditional method is one 
frequently followed by Mr. Rockefeller, and is also 
one which has become conspicuous through its use 
by Dr. D. K. Pearsons of Chicago. 

The first thought that one has in respect to this 
method is that it is an exceedingly shrewd device. 
It is recognized as an efficient method for promot- 
ing the beneficence of people who need a motive. 
It seems to carry along with itself not only evi- 
dence of the generosity of the man himself, but 
also evidence that he wishes every man whom he 
can influence to be generous also. It is the em- 
bodiment of the method of the New England the- 
ology of helping every one to do his whole duty. 

1 86 



Financial Relations 

But when one has taken satisfaction in this 
thought and feeling another sentiment emerges. 
The second sentiment is rather one of revulsion; 
for to certain minds the process does seem to savor 
of dragooning an individual into benevolence 
against his will. It contains an intimation that 
the generous man and rich proposes to make every- 
body else generous so far as he can. I can easily 
see that an emotional and intellectual process 
somewhat of this character may possess a man 
who is approached for a gift under the conditions 
of this method. The agent who is securing funds 
asks Mr. A. B. to give a thousand dollars. Mr. A. B. 
replies that he will consider the need and will do as 
seems to him right. " But," says the agent, " you 
will not forget, my dear Mr. A. B., that if you give 
a thousand dollars, Mr. X. Y. will also give a thou- 
sand dollars. Therefore your gift of a thousand 
means an addition to our fund of two thousand." 
A. B. replies: "Yes, I know; but that is no con- 
cern of mine. If your cause is worthy I will give 
you a thousand dollars, whether any one else gives 
or not. If it is not worthy I will not subscribe a 
cent ; if it is worthy I will subscribe all I can. I do 
not let any man either cajole or force me into giv- 
ing away my money against my will and judgment. 
If he ought to give away his million or ten thou- 
sand, of course he ought to give it away ; but his 
duty has no relation to my duty, or mine to his." 
Such, I can easily believe, is the mood of many a 
man who is approached to make gifts under the 
conditions of this new method. 

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Financial Relations 

And yet the new method does seem to me to be, 
as I have intimated, worthy of commendation. The 
arguments in its behalf are far stronger than the 
arguments against it; for the amount that one 
ought to give is not determined by a narrow inter- 
pretation. The amount which one gives, or ought to 
give, is determined somewhat by what others give 
or ought to give. Mr. Wiseheart, for instance, has 
half a million dollars to give toward the founding 
of a college in his native town. He knows very 
well that half a million is too small a foundation 
for a college to rest upon. Yet this sum he is 
willing thus to invest. Is it not just and gracious 
in him to say, " I will give half a million dollars 
to found a college, provided that you, the com- 
panions of my boyhood, will give an equal sum " % 
He lays no burden upon them which they should 
feel the weight of, if they have the means of 
lifting it. Mr. Groodheart may also wish to build 
a church in his native town. He knows that five 
thousand dollars is a small sum, too small to erect 
an adequate structure. Is it, therefore, not just 
and gracious in him to say to the congregation, " I 
have five thousand dollars in the bank awaiting 
your call when you put five thousand dollars more 
along with it for building a church " % Mr. Do well 
wishes to build a parsonage in his native town. 
He has five hundred dollars for this purpose, but 
five hundred dollars is not adequate. Is it not 
just and generous and gracious in him to say to 
the congregation that he will give five hundred 
dollars provided it will raise a thousand? His 



Financial Relations 

proposition lays no burden on tlie church if it have 
the power of raising the additional sum. In the 
first instance, five hundred thousand dollars should 
not be given to found the college unless an equal 
sum is also raised. In the second instance, five 
thousand dollars should not be given to build the 
church unless an equal sum is also raised. In the 
third instance, five hundred dollars should not be 
given to build the parsonage unless the thousand 
dollars are also raised. For each sum in itself is 
inadequate for the ordained purpose. Therefore 
the amount which one may properly give to the 
support of a certain cause is conditioned upon 
what others are inclined to give. 

The new method deserves commendation also 
on the ground that most people do require every 
possible motive to maintain themselves in a just 
generosity. By nature most men embody very 
well the law of self-preservation and of self-pro- 
tection. Men ought always to be selfward; but 
most find selfwardness degenerating into selfish- 
ness. They require the urging and pressure of 
every motive for holding themselves to their duty 
in beneficence. Therefore motives that may not 
seem to be gracious may be wise, and motives which 
at times hardly seem wise may, on the whole, be 
necessary to secure the largest and most lasting 
results. 

Yet not infrequently the result emerges in a way 
far less ungracious than the premises intimate. 
For it is a fact often found that men of large power 
and large generosity in giving, who have condi- 

189 



Financial Relations 

tioned their gifts upon the making of other gifts, 
do bestow the gifts which they had conditionally 
promised, even if the conditions themselves are not 
fulfilled. I recall one instance of this nature. A 
friend of mine had promised five thousand dollars 
to a certain school for young women on condition 
that thirty thousand dollars were raised in addi- 
tion. The hard times came on soon after he had 
made his promise. It was quite impossible for the 
agent to raise even a tithe of the thirty thousand ; 
but my friend said, as if it were to him a matter 
of no consequence whether the thirty thousand 
dollars were secured or not : " Of course I gave 
the five." 

It seems, therefore, that this new method of 
beneficence, on the whole, is wise and just. But it 
does seem, too, that those who make large prom- 
ises of this nature conditioned upon the raising 
of other sums should not in all instances withhold 
their benefactions through the failure to fulfil the 
conditions laid down. This might well be the case, 
provided that those who are seeking to fulfil the 
conditions have labored in wisdom, energy, and 
self-sacrifice. The conditions, too, should not be 
made onerous. 

If the gift of money is important and useful, it 
is not to be forgotten that with his money the 
giver is to give himself. To give money without 
giving one's self may be ungracious in the giver, 
and may not awaken proper gra,titude in the 
recipient. To give one's self with the gift is at 
once gracious and generous. It was said of one of 

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Financial Relations 

the great givers of this country, in speaking of 
the money which he gave, that " with it went the 
heart to conceive and the brain to execute; a 
watchful oversight that doubled the value of the 
gift; a guardian care that would suffer no dollar 
to be wasted, but drive every one to its allotted 
place and its fullest result." ^ 

The special objects in a college to which one 
should give are many. It is usually recognized by 
Trustees that the gifts which are made absolutely 
and without restrictions of any kind are the most 
valuable. Such giving the donor may well be 
expected to approve of; for he should not choose 
a college in the judgment of whose Trustees or their 
successors he cannot have absolute trust. But 
there are certain needs which are quite as sure of 
remaining as any need of all humanity. The most 
comprehensive of these needs is the college library. 

The university represents a unique combination 
of the library and of the scholar. A library with- 
out a scholar is a pile of bricks without an archi- 
tect, useless, meaningless; a scholar without a 
library is an architect without bricks, helpless, 
worthless. A scholar in a library, a library for a 
scholar, and both constituent parts of the univer- 
sity represent the affluence, the power, and the 
progress of learning. 

The library also represents the highest relation 
of the work of the college to the work of the world. 
It embodies the purest thought, it receives the 
finest gold of human aspiration and achievement. 

1 "In Memory of Henry Williams Sage," p. 45. 
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Financial Relations 

Above all other collections of books, it should keep 
out all dross. Most books, as they fall from the 
press, fall into the ocean of f orgetf ulness, and sink 
by their own weight. The college receives the 
books which have life, the books which, as Lowell 
says of Gray, " may have little fuel but real fire." 
It wishes to possess all the books which are an un- 
quenchable flame. President Low has defined the 
university as " the highest organized exponent of 
the intellectual needs of man." ^ The library may 
be called the highest organized exponent of the 
supply of the organized needs of man. He also 
says that the university " is an organized exponent 
of the questioning spirit in man." We may still 
further define the library as an organized exponent 
of the answering of the questioning spirit in man. 
It is through the library that the college comes 
into relations with life universal, vital, human. 
The library appeals to humanity of every range. 
The chemical laboratory to many is a condition 
which appeals to only a part of the human sense 
and senses. Laboratories of other departments 
are likewise as meaningless. But a great collec- 
tion of books awakens in even the most stupid 
wonder, and in all other persons emotions higher 
than wonder, according as the intellectual receptivi- 
ties are nobler. Most vital, too, are these relations. 
How many have interpreted in their own lives Mil- 
ton's definition of a book as the " precious life- 
blood of a master spirit " ! Cold and remote often 
seems the college. It is apart from humanity, as 

1 From manuscript. 
192 



Financial Relations 

was Ida's college in " The Princess." But into the 
library has flowed the blood of humanity. The 
college man drinks deep of this inflowing life and 
gives himself in deeper devotion to humanity. Is 
it too much to say that whatever of the universal 
may belong to the university belongs more to the 
library than to any other part ? 

The American college, therefore, has in its library 
an instrument • of mighty usefulness for serving 
mankind. No wisdom is too practical, no conse- 
cration too hearty, no endowment too rich, to be 
devoted to its development. No house is too fair 
or too fine for holding its books, only provided the 
house facilitates their use. No administrative ex- 
pense is too costly for making its resources more 
accessible. The library is worthy of the best, for 
it helps to make the best in the student and the 
teacher. 

The significance given to a library is sympto- 
matic of the richness of the intellectual culture 
which it helps the students to secure. As the 
public library is to a degree the cause and the 
result of the intelligence of the community, so 
the college library bears relations no less broad 
and intimate to the work of the college itself. For 
every element and condition of the library have a 
peculiar value at once to the student, to the teacher, 
and to the college executive. The breadth of the 
work of a college library is indicated by the fact 
that the library of Harvard College received in the 
year 1874-75 four funds from sources quite diverse. 
One of these consisted of the proceeds of one-half 
13 193 



Financial Relations 

of the residue of the estate of Charles Sumner^ 
$29,005. Another fund was the bequest of $15,000 
from James Walker, a former President of the 
college. Upon these gifts and others, the President 
of the college, in his annual report for 1874-75, 
says : " The philanthropist and orator whose life 
was spent in a fierce struggle with a monstrous 
public wrong, the strong preacher, and the philan- 
thropic student whose lengthened days were spent 
in academic retirement, the venerable women full 
of years and of the graces, all, with a touching con- 
sent, come bringing the same gift — good books for 
the use of successive generations of students." 

So long as colleges exist and so long as educa- 
tion is fostered, and so long as \hQ pursuit of 
knowledge, either as a discipline or for the pur- 
pose of its enrichment, is observed, so long the 
book must play a large part in the organization 
and administration of the college. Therefore 
the gift of money to a college for the purchase of 
books is ever, and in every respect, to receive 
hearty commendation. It is also to be said that 
a gift made for the purpose of meeting the ordi- 
nary cost of instruction is fitting. But be it said 
that further than these two particular purposes 
gifts made to a college accompanied with condi- 
tions may prove to be of restricted usefulness. 
Grifts made for the equipping of laboratories, or for 
the giving of instruction in certain departments, or 
for the founding of professorships, may not possess 
the value which the amount of these gifts repre- 
sents; for in the changing conditions of our so- 

IQ4 



Financial Relations 

ciety in the next thousand years one can be certain 
that foundations such as these will suffer serious 
change. The distinguished President of an his- 
toric college lately said that it was easy enough 
to get people to give money for specific purposes 
of their own choosing, but that it was not easy 
to get people to give money for general purposes. 
The work of the college President of to-day is so 
to inspire people with trust in the college that 
they will intrust money to it with absolute 
freedom. 

It is to be remembered that colleges, notwith- 
standing their urgent need of money, have seldom 
or never been willing to adopt unworthy methods 
of securing money. The contrast between the 
college and the church in this respect is one alto- 
gether favorable to the college. One can easily 
recall the manoeuvers used by various churches 
either for the purpose of benevolence or for secur- 
ing the support of the organization, which break all 
the laws of good taste. The colleges have usually 
been content with the simple statement of their 
needs to those whose hearts were large and whose 
minds were receptive to truth. They have been 
willing to let their claims for aid rest upon the 
simple statement of their needs and of their use- 
fulness to the community. 

Beneficence to colleges has been larger in the 
case of the older colleges than in the case of the 
newer. The reason is not far to seek. The older 
community has more wealth to give. In the newer 
communities the returns for the use of money are 

195 



Financial Relations 

greater than in the older. Therefore in New York 
and Massachusetts one expects to find larger gifts 
than in Illinois or Missouri. In fact, in Massa- 
chusetts beneficences of a public nature are 
more common than in any other State. Great 
properties are passing into the hands of the public 
in a far greater degree than is usually thought. 
From one-fifth to two-thirds of not a few large 
estates are frequently transformed from private to 
public uses. The bequests, however, for what may 
strictly be called " charities " in Massachusetts are 
much larger than they ought to be in relation to 
the demands of the higher education. 

It is also not to be forgotten that a small sum 
of money properly invested for even a single life- 
time results in a large sum. If the time be length- 
ened beyond the seventy or eighty years of a single 
life, the results become very significant. The most 
striking of all such gifts made to the American 
college is found in the fund given by Mr. Charles 
F. McCay to the University of Greorgia. Mr. 
McCay was professor of mathematics for twenty 
years, from 1833 to 1853, and after his retirement 
became a leading actuary for insurance companies. 
In 1879 Mr. McCay gave the sum of $7000 to the 
university. This sum was to be invested in first- 
rate bonds, and the interest to be compounded an- 
nually or semiannually and to be added to the 
principal until twenty-one years after the death of 
a certain number of persons. These persons repre- 
sented the grandchildren of the testator and also 
the grandchildren of his brothers and sisters and 

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of a friend. Some years after the making of this 
deed of gift the $7000 which had been given were 
exchanged for bonds of the State of Georgia of the 
face-value of $15,000. It is estimated that a hun- 
dred years will have expired before the interest of 
this sum will become available. At that time the 
historian of the University of Greorgia estimates 
that the fund will amount to $10,000,000 from 
which it is hoped the university will be able to se- 
cure, at a rate of five per cent., a net income of 
$500,000 a year. 

Trusts like the Charles F. McCay Donation have 
seldom been committed to the American college. 
But if such a method should prevail among a few 
colleges for even a few generations the result would 
represent a mighty force for the betterment of 
humanity. "^ 

America has entered into an era of great benefi- 
cence. Fifty years ago Abbott Lawrence gave 
$50,000 to Harvard College to found the scientific 
school which bears his name. It was the sum of 
$50,000 only. In the diary of his brother Amos it 
is called a " munificent donation," and this brother 
wrote to the donor, under date of June 9, 1847, 
as follows : 

Dear Brother Abbott : I hardly dare trust myself to 
speak what I feel, and therefore write a word to say that 
I thank God I am spared to this day to see accomphshed 
hy one so near and dear to me this last best work ever 
done by one of our name, which will prove a better title 
to true nobility than any from the potentates of the 
world. It is more honorable, and more to be coveted, 

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than the highest political station in our country, pur- 
chased as these stations often are by time-serving. It is 
to impress on unborn millions the great truth that our 
talents are trusts committed to us for use, and to be 
accounted for when the Master calls. This magnificent 
plan is the great thing that you will see carried out, if 
your life is spared ; and you may well cherish it as the 
thing nearest your heart.^ 

But to-day a gift of $50,000 is not at all called 
" munificent," and indeed it awakens small remark. 
Shefiield's first gift to the scientific school of Yale 
University was only $100,000. A gift of $1,000,000 
to education is now more common than was the 
gift of $50,000 fifty years ago. In this period we 
have entered into the era of great fortunes, and 
we have also entered into the era of great benefi- 
cence. The next five hundred years are to be an 
era of magnificent enrichment and enlargement. 
Gifts of $5,000,000 are soon to become as common 
as gifts of $50,000 were fifty years ago, and the 
time may not be remote when the gift of $50,000,- 
000 toward the establishment of institutions of 
learning or of charity may be frequent. 

One can look upon these foundations with great 
satisfaction, not only because of the benefits to the 
college, but also — and more, far more — because 
of the benefits to be derived for humanity from 
these benefactions made to colleges. For ordinary 
fortunes are dissipated after being held for two or 
three generations. The families in this country 

1 " Diary and Correspondence of Amos Lawrence " (Boston, 1856), 
p. 244. 

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which have held large fortunes for a hundred years 
can be numbered upon the fingers of both hands. 
Therefore money given to a college is money saved 
— saved not only for the next generation, but also 
-saved for the endless time. Therefore the man 
who gives to a college can, with a reasonable degree 
of assurance, feel that he is founding a trust which 
shall be perpetual in its beneficence to humanity, 
and the college that receives such endowment can 
assure itself that it has the promise and the potency 
of the highest and most lasting usefulness. 



Ill 

ENDOWMENT MADE FOE POOR STUDENTS 

The remark is sometimes made that too many 
boys and girls are going to college. At the present 
time in the United States about one boy or girl of 
each thousand of the population is a student in an 
American college. This proportion is larger than 
has ever obtained before, and it is also larger than 
is found in any other nation. Not infrequently it 
is said that the proportion is too large for the best 
interest of mankind. When one who makes the 
remark that there are too many college graduates 
is questioned as to his reasons, the proposition 
usually becomes so reduced as to mean that we 
have too many lawyers and doctors. 

That we have too many lawyers and doctors in the 
United States may be granted without affirming 

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also that we are sending too many boys and girls 
to college. For going to college simply means that 
one is being educated; it does not mean that one 
is on the way to become a practitioner either in 
the law or in medicine. One-third of the gradu- 
ates of not a few of our colleges are now entering 
business 5 not more than one-third are entering the 
legal profession; and a smaller proportion are 
becoming physicians. It certainly is not true 
that any country can have too many well-edu- 
cated men. Men can hardly think or feel or rea- 
son too soundly, or possess an undue purity of the 
moral nature, or be endowed with a will which 
follows too closely the guidance of an enlightened 
intellect. The greater the number of such gentle- 
men in the community, the greater is the likeness 
of that community to the state of communal per- 
fection. 

It would not, therefore, be an extreme proposi- 
tion to affirm that every member of the community 
should be educated, and educated by the wisest 
methods, under the best conditions, unto the secur- 
ing of the highest purposes. What if your scav- 
enger be a bachelor of arts, or your grocer, or can- 
dlestick-maker be a doctor of philosophy? Will 
not each attend to his duties the better because 
of his prolonged training? If his education fail 
to make him a better scavenger, that education 
has not been so thorough as it ought to have 
been. A lady's maid will dress her mistress's 
hair the more gracefully, and her nursery-maid 
will attend to the children the more worthily be- 

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cause of four 'years spent in studying Greek and 
philosophy. 

Though one may fittingly emphasize the advan- 
tage which would accrue to American society 
through the education of each of its members, yet 
one should not neglect to consider what may be the 
effects of this education upon the members them- 
selves who are educated and who are unable to 
secure what they may regard as fitting employ- 
ment. Each one of these men has trained himseK 
to think, and his employment as a scavenger gives 
him no opportunity, or slight, for applying the 
results of his thought. He has trained himself to 
reason, to judge, to weigh evidence, and his voca- 
tion as a teamster offers no fitting chance either 
to reason or to weigh evidence. The effect of such 
a condition upon the educated man may be bitter- 
ness and disgust and hardness. He has spent 
money, time, and strength, and this is the result ! 
Only a large man can save himself from such an 
evil consequence. Better, far better, for one not 
to have received a degree, and to have been con- 
tent with a place as a scavenger or as a teamster, 
than to have a dozen degrees, and to spend his life 
in bitterness of spirit and disgust of soul. This 
sad condition is not one often met with in the 
United States, but is found far more frequently 
than we could wish in Grermany and Russia. 

The endeavor which is made in Germany and 
Russia to lessen the number of men entering the 
universities is based upon the supposition that all 
recipients of degrees will enter what we still call 

20 1 



Financial Relations 

the learned professions. On this supposition it is 
wise to lessen the number of the candidates for uni- 
versity degrees ; for in Germany some professions 
are suffering from too many candidates. But the 
supposition itself is not wise, even for Germany; 
for Germany, like America, needs more men of a 
liberal training in almost every vocation. 

It is well known that the higher education never 
pays for itself ; and it is also well known that the 
higher the education becomes, the wider becomes 
the gap between the income and the expenditure 
for that education. The $75,000 which the fresh- 
man class pays annually into the treasury of Har- 
vard University more than meets the direct cost 
of the instruction of that class; but the $50,000 
which the senior class pays is very remote from 
meeting the direct cost of its instruction. The 
further education is pursued, the greater is the 
division of labor; the sections into which the 
members of the class are divided become smaller, 
and the relative expense for each student grows 
larger. The amount paid by the students of any 
college falls considerably short of the expenses of 
that institution. I know a college the annual cost 
of whose administration is about $60,000, without 
counting the interest on the plant, and of this sum 
the students pay about $1 2,000 ; that is to say, the 
students pay one-fifth of the cost of their educa- 
tion, and the college pays four-fifths. 

It is also well known that many homes in the 
United States are able to put from $2000 to $4000, 
or more, into the college education of a son or 

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daughter. Forty or fifty thousand homes in the 
country are now making this investment of money 
and of love. It is also well known that other tens 
of thousands of homes would be very glad to make 
this investment of money in the education of a 
child, if only the parents had the money to invest. 
The sons and daughters of homes of poverty or of 
moderate income are none the less loved, — of course 
not, — are none the less able ; and they possess none 
the less of promise of becoming useful members of 
society. The desire, therefore, of boys and girls 
who are not able to pay their own college bills to 
go to college, and the promise which these boys 
and girls give of rendering good service to the com- 
munity, lay upon the community, and upon the 
college as a part of a function of the community, 
a very large and serious problem. Shall the col- 
lege say to the applicant for admission, "Yes, we 
want to educate you; but you cannot expect the 
college to give you an education gratis. Bring to 
us the little fee which we charge, and we will do 
the best we can for you ; but if you cannot bring 
this fee, we are obliged to say with regret that we 
cannot serve you" ? Or shall the college say, 
" We are a public institution designed to serve the 
people. Our fees are small. The income that we 
receive from them represents only a small share of 
the total cost of giving an education. If you are 
not able to pay the full amount of the fee, small 
as it is, we will loan you the money sufficient to 
warrant you in beginning your course ; and if you 
prove yourself a worthy student, you will not be 

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Financial Relations 

obliged to leave college because of poverty"? 
Which attitude shall the college take with ref- 
erence to certain members of the community? 

The fundamental reason for the college helping 
the poor student at all is a reason which is funda- 
mental in the constitution of the college itself — 
namely, the bettering of humanity, the aiding 
of the community. For the college is to serve 
the community. It must serve the community 
by such methods and measures as its wisdom dic- 
tates. But the constitutional purpose is evident. 
Of course it can serve the community through the 
education of its worthy and promising members, 
as the community aids the college. The commu- 
nity blesses itself through constituting the college 
both its benefactor and its beneficiary. 

These are the conditions under which the college 
has for generations been giving an education, more 
or less free, to American youth. The amount of 
money which the college has given, and is still 
giving, is very large. 

The money given directly or indirectly by differ- 
ent colleges to aid worthy and poor students, and 
the opportunities afforded to them for working 
their way through college, are well illustrated in 
the following statements respecting representative 
colleges. 

Amherst has a hundred scholarships which 
cover the tuition fee. It also gives the amount of 
the tuition fee to those who propose to become 
ministers. It has certain rooms for which no rent 
is charged, and also makes loans to students at 

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Financial Relations 

low rates. Brown University also has a hundred 
scholarships which cover the amount of the tuition 
fee, and also a loan fund. Bowdoin College has 
eighty scholarships of an annual value of from 
fifty to seventy- five dollars. Dartmouth, it is 
said, has nearly three hundred scholarships. It 
also places rooms at the disposal of certain men 
at merely nominal rent. Harvard has somewhat 
more than two hundred scholarships running in 
value from sixty to four hundred dollars each, and 
also large beneficiary or loan funds, which are 
given or loaned in sums varying from forty to 
two hundred and fifty dollars. Princeton remits 
the tuition fee to those who propose to become 
ministers and to other men of promise. Columbia 
has somewhat over a hundred scholarships as well 
as a loan fund, and these scholarships cover the 
fee for tuition. Cornell has six hundred and twelve 
State scholarships, which cover the charge for in- 
struction, as well as others which are awarded as a 
result of competitive examinations. Yale remits 
all but forty dollars from the term bills of those 
students who are worthy and need help, and also 
has various scholarships and prizes. The Univer- 
sity of Pennsylvania annually distributes between 
forty and fifty thousand dollars in free scholarships 
and fellowships among from three to four hundred 
men. 

These statements represent what a few of the 
colleges are doing to help worthy men ; and, be it 
said, these statements are simply representative 
of what other colleges are inclined,— although in 

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Financial Relations 

smaller sums,— if not eager, to do to help students 
of slender means but high promise to fit themselves 
for living the largest life and for doing the best 
work. 

From the beginning the American college has 
had a warm heart for the poor and able boy. Dr. 
Julian M. Sturtevant, who was for many years 
President of Illinois College, and to whom several 
States of the Mississippi valley are deeply indebted 
for noble contributions to their highest civiliza- 
tion, tells, in his autobiography, of the help that 
was given to him in the early part of this century 
at Yale College. Dr. Sturtevant entered Yale in 
the year 1822. He was so poor that he was obliged 
to depend entirely upon himself, or upon such aid 
as he might receive, for getting through college. 
He says : 

Our venerable mother, Yale, had some peculiar ways in 
dealing with her numerous family of boys. She took 
into consideration the peculiar conditions and needs of 
each student, and did not treat all exactly alike. She 
kindly permitted me to enjoy the good things of her din- 
ing-rooms and her halls of instruction with the full 
understanding that I would pay my way as fast as I 
could. None of her bills were due till the end of the 
term. I was then expected to pay what I could and give 
my note for the rest. From those students who had 
abundant resources a bond with responsible indorsement 
was required, covering the full amount of the indebted- 
ness which each would be likely to incur for the whole 
four years' course, while from those who, like myself, 
had no money and in a business way no credit, no secur- 

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Financial Relations 

ity was required but a personal note with evidence of a 
disposition to pay as fast as possible. In further evi- 
dence of Yale's liberaUty, I will mention that I several 
times found credit on my term bills which represented 
no payment by myself into the treasury. This very un- 
usual and liberal system seems to have worked well in 
my case. It enabled me to continue in college, which 
would otherwise have been impossible. And in the end 
I paid all charges against me on the college books, both 
principal and interest. The generous treatment received 
from the Yale authorities I shall hold in lifelong grateful 
remembrance.^ 

The belief is common, although not universal, 
among college presidents that donations to needy 
and promising students represent a worthy form 
of educational beneficence. It is believed that the 
college, as a trustee for the holiest interests of 
humanity, should do its utmost in promoting the 
value and effectiveness of the forces that may 
make for the betterment of men. Such gifts are 
supported by the strongest human motives. They 
represent the essence of the Christian system. The 
college, — like the church, the family, and the state, 
— as an organized form of society, should do its 
utmost in promoting the highest and largest v^el- 
fare. So far as justice to all interests allows, the 
boy or girl who desires an education, and who 
would be made a better member of society by rea- 
son of having that education, should receive it. 
The evils which may result from such a philan- 

1 " Autobiography of Julian M. Sturtevant," edited by his son, 
p. 80. 

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Fmancial Relations 

thropic method may be thought to be great or 
slight ; but they should be made so slight that the 
advantages accruing to society should become 
large and lasting. 

I cannot but believe that the evils resulting from 
urging worthy youth, rich in brain but poor in 
purse, to enter college, are indeed slight, while the 
advantages may prove to be exceedingly great. 
Upon this point President Grilman, in an address 
before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard in 
1886, said: 

Just now, in our own country, there is special reason 
for affirming that talents should be encouraged without 
respect to poverty. Indeed, it is quite probable that the 
rich need the stimulus of academic honors more than the 
poor; certainly the good of society requires that intel- 
lectual power, wherever detected, should be encouraged 
to exercise its highest functions. 

Among all college presidents I know of a few, 
only a few, who oppose the giving of a college 
education without cost to those who are eager to 
receive it. The President of one of the more con- 
spicuous of the newer universities writes to me as 
follows : 

In my experience, the general effect of the granting of 
pecuniary aid is bad on the receiver and bad also on the 
body of students who do not receive. All forms of help 
granted here are in the shape of employment; and I 
would not have it otherwise. ... I prefer low tuition 
or free tuition to all to any system of aid. 

Loans are to be preferred to gifts ; but their influence 
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Financial Relations 

is sometimes bad, especially on those who feel tempted 
never to repay. In case funds of this sort were in my 
hands, I would use them to pay men who give promise 
of special usefulness by making them assistants in some 
departments where their help was actually needed. 

The statement is sometimes made that a boy 
desiring to go to college should not go until he 
lias supplied himself with money sufficient to meet 
the cost of his education. Let him first earn his 
money, it is said, and afterward go to college. 
The simple truth is : first, that the boy would sel- 
dom earn enough to go ; second, that while earning 
it he would usually lose his purpose to go to col- 
lege ; and, third, that when he had earned enough 
to go through college he would find himself too 
old to take up with the highest advantage to him- 
self many of the studies of the first two years of a 
college course. The tendency of staying out of col- 
lege to take away the purpose to go to college at 
all is strikingly illustrated in the case of a medi- 
cal student. I had given him the counsel to 
stay out of college a year and earn money, inas- 
much as he was especially in need of earning 
money, and his ability to earn money was excep- 
tionally good. He saw fit not to follow the advice. 
In response to my inquiry as to his reason for 
going on with his studies, he remarked, — and the 
remark was made with a pathos which conveyed a 
meaning that the words themselves do not convey, 
— " I was afraid that if I stayed out any longer I 
should give it all up ! " 

Of course, in the giving of aid to students, the 
1* 209 



Financial Relations 

grounds of the grant are of absolute importance. 
The grounds upon which aid is usually given 
by a college are threefold : first, the need of aid ; 
second, the character of the applicant ; and, third, 
the ability of the applicant. These grounds are 
often more or less difficult to determine. In not a 
few instances it is difficult to discover with thor- 
ough satisfaction whether the student be so in 
want that he should receive aid. The college 
usually takes pains to investigate the question. 
It frequently sends out printed circulars which 
are to be signed, not only by the applicant or his 
parents, but also by those outside of the family who 
know of the conditions. For instance, the follow- 
ing is the form that is used in a New England 
college : 

I hereby apply for a scholarship in— — College, on 
the ground that I am so far dependent upon my own 
exertions in securing a college education as to make it 
necessary for me to receive special pecuniary aid from 
the college. 

r Name 

Signature of Applicant < Residence 

( College Course 

We indorse the above application from our personal 
knowledge of the pecuniary needs of the applicant, and 
in the belief that he is worthy, both in character and 
talents, of the desired aid. 

Signature of two responsible parties, with date and 
place : 



2IO 



Financial Relations 

This application is made with my knowledge and ap- 
proval, and because of my own inability to furnish the 
means necessary for the education of my son (or ward). 

Signature of parent or guardian, with date and place : 



But even with the making of this and similar 
inquiries every college officer knows that he is not 
infrequently imposed upon. For " need " is not an 
absolute term, but a relative one. One home, hav- 
ing an annual income of $1000, will send a son or 
daughter to college and pay all the bills. Another 
home, having an income of $1500, will become an 
applicant for a scholarship, and will not see any- 
thing inconsistent in accepting a largess of $200 
from the college. The opinion is altogether too 
common that every college is rich, and that whatso- 
ever a student can get from the college is so much 
gained. It is well known that great difficulty is 
experienced in the administration of what is known 
as the Price Greenleaf Aid Fund of Harvard Uni- 
versity. I have known of boys who applied for 
aid from this fund and who have received the aid, 
but who, judged from the standard of expenditure 
in their homes, had no more right to it than the 
man in the moon. But the element of need, when 
once determined, is a fundamental ground for the 
awarding of aid. It becomes the college to inves- 
tigate, with whatever of pains and courtesy the 
condition allows, in order to discover the exact 
character of the need, and to determine the amount 
necessary for the proper filling of the need. Of 
course the question of the character of the appli- 

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Financial Relations 

cant also is fundamental. The college ought not, 
under any condition, to educate a boy whose char- 
acter is bad and who gives no promise of becoming 
a useful member of the community. To educate a 
bad boy or a boy of no promise is to introduce a 
serpent into a dove's nest, or to train him for the 
serpent's career. For, as is said in the constitu- 
tion of Phillips Academy at Andover, " knowledge 
without goodness is dangerous." 

The college should also demand a high degree of 
intellectual ability and of promise in order to grant 
aid. The degree of ability and the degree of prom- 
ise required vary in different colleges. In not a 
few the amount of aid is measured by the degree 
of ability or of promise. At this point the college 
meets with a constant difficulty. What is the 
minimum of ability which should justify a college 
Faculty in giving aid to a student who is in need I 
The President of a college in Indiana writes : 

It is not our policy to give aid to men poor in purse 
but unpromising scholars unless we discover that there 
is a good deal of potency in them. The college should 
train character, it is true ; hut it is also to train intellect. 
Some men ought not to have a college education, and 
can he more useful members of society by doing some- 
thing else rather than attending college. 

The President of a college in Michigan writes : 

No discrimination should be made against moderately 
dull students. Beneficiary aid is not for the exceptionally 
gifted alone. 

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Financial Relations 

The President of a university in the State of New 
York writes : 

It seems to us that there ought to he, for every such 
grant, the demonstrated ability either of achievement or 
promise, and that there ought to be, besides, the fact of 
need. Sometimes the need is the one thing which pre- 
vents a student from being properly equipped for begin- 
ning the course which he wishes to pursue. At entrance, 
therefore, we should doubtless be more lenient in accept- 
ing promise in lieu of achievement than we should be 
later in the course. 

The President of a denominational college in 
Ohio says : 

We are coming more and more to question the wisdom 
of granting aid to goody-goody fellows who have little 
brain-power. On a scale of a possible 100, we now require 
a passing grade of 80 for all beneficiary students, 
whereas others pass on 60. 

It is evident that the degree of promised useful- 
ness which should be expected from an applicant 
for aid represents one of the most difficult ques- 
tions for a Faculty to consider. In general, it is 
to be said that the Faculty is inclined to give the 
applicant the advantage of the doubt; for the 
very fact that he is eager for an education is some 
evidence of his worthiness to receive it, and it is 
also promise that he will make his life of the 
greater worth by reason of receiving it. 

The aid which the college gives a student is 
usually of one of three forms. The most common 

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Financial Relations 

form is that known as a " scholarship." A scholar- 
ship usually represents a gift of a certain sum of 
money made to the college, the income of which 
is to be used in aiding an individual to get an 
education. The annual value of a scholarship 
differs in different instances. In Harvard the 
annual value runs from $50 to $400, and the aver- 
age is perhaps about $225. In most colleges the 
annual value is equivalent to the annual charge 
for instruction. In others it is less. 

A second form of aid consists in payments from 
the general funds of the institution. These pay- 
ments are frequently made over and above any 
remission of fees or grants of scholarships. The 
most conspicuous of these funds is the Price Green- 
leaf Fund of Harvard University, already alluded 
to. Among the more notable of recent gifts to 
educational institutions is the bequest of Edward 
Austin of about a million dollars to Harvard and 
to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, to 
establish beneficiary funds for students. The 
nature of all these funds in the different colleges is 
well indicated by the circular which is sent out by 
one of the Presbyterian colleges of Pennsylvania. 
It reads as follows : 

Aid is given to students who would otherwise be unable 
to enjoy the advantages of a liberal education under the 
following conditions : 

1. The sons of ministers of the Presbyterian Church 
and candidates for its ministry are admitted to the clas- 
sical and Latin-scientific courses without any charge for 
tuition ; while in the technical courses one-half of then* 

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Financial Relations 

tuition fees is remitted. This rule may be extended in 
special cases to include other denominations. 

2. Young men who have no parents, who are entirely 
dependent upon their own efforts to get their education, 
upon presentation of proper certificates of character, in- 
dustry, and their inability to attend college without aid, 
receive such assistance as may be available at the time 
of their application, not exceeding the tuition fee in the 
classical and Latin-scientific courses, or one-half the tui- 
tion fee in the technical courses. 

3. In special cases, also, aid is given to those not in- 
cluded in the foregoing classes by the loan of an amount 
similar to the aid given to those above mentioned, to be 
repaid in a given period without interest. The period 
will be sufficiently long after leaving college to give op- 
portunity for the borrower to become established in his 
profession or business. 

A third form of aid consists in the granting of 
loans to students. This represents a method some- 
what new ; for it has been only within the past few 
years that colleges have been willing to loan money 
to students in large aggregate amounts with the 
hope of repayment. Absolute grants or gifts had 
previously been made. The testimony of nearly 
all — but not all — college presidents is in favor of 
loans as the best means of aid. This method, of 
course, labors under the disadvantage of laying a 
burden upon the graduate ; for most men who are 
poor in college have not the strength or the means 
to remove the debt until several years after grad- 
uation. The conditions which have kept them in 
poverty up to the age of twenty-two usually tend 
to continue them in poverty until the age of 

215 



Financial Relaiions 

twenty-six. Such a debt easily proves to be a 
financial burden. Certainly it is not well for a 
man to face life with heavy pecuniary responsi- 
bilities resting upon him. 

But the advantages of the system of loans are 
great. The method delivers from the fear of pau- 
perizing the student. It develops self-respect in 
the student. It proves to be a less serious burden 
for the college than the method of absolute gifts ; 
for the loans that are repaid represent an incre- 
ment of power for aiding the students of the 
future. 

The testimony of many college presidents upon 
the loan as the best method is ample. The Presi- 
dent of a State university in the Middle West 
says: 

I am emphatic in the belief that all pecuniary aid 
should be granted in the form of a definite loan. Every 
dollar of this should be repaid with reasonable interest. 
Wherever possible, there should be some responsible per- 
son as indorser. The time within which the loan is to 
be paid may be so extended as to make it more than 
reasonably sure that repayment can be made without 
distressing the borrower : but the interest should be paid 
regularly ; and the principal should at least be provided 
for by a new note when it becomes due. The indorser 
should understand that he is held responsible just as he 
would be upon any other bank paper. It seems to me 
that, considering the long time of the loan and the com- 
paratively small amount, no man of real promise can be 
so situated that he has no friend who will back him in a 
loan of this kind. The borrower should be made clearly 
to understand that the only generosity in this whole 

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Financial Relations 

matter is that which makes it possible for him to borrow^ 
and that he must make a definite return in order that 
some one else may have a like benefit. 

The loans that are thus made are, however, usually 
debts of honor, and they are usually made on the 
pledge that they will be repaid when the student 
is financially able. Of the condition of his finan- 
cial ability it is usually allowed that the student 
himself shall be the judge. It is at this point that 
colleges are passing through diverse experiences. 
" When I am able," is a phrase which students who 
have become graduates and have entered into 
money-making professions interpret in the most 
diverse ways. For instance, one student who is earn- 
ing $600 as a teacher judges that he ought to pay up 
his college debts, and does pay them up. Another 
student earns this same amount of money for one 
year, straightway feels that he is justified in be- 
coming a husband, and soon finds that, as the head 
of a family, he is not able to do more than support 
his wife and children. One student who has bor- 
rowed $500 from the college becomes a lawyer, 
receives an income of $1200, leases a house at $20 
a month, and judges that he is not able to pay his 
debt to the college. Another graduate, who be- 
comes a minister, is in debt to the college $600, is 
unmarried, and earns a salary of $800 a year. 
Should he be regarded as able to pay his col- 
lege debt! Should, for instance, a student who 
borrowed from the college the sum of $700, who is 
earning $650 as a teacher, be justified in saving his 
money in order to go to Grermany to win his doc- 

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tor's degree and thus fit himself the better for 
teaching? These and similar problems present 
themselves in the experience of every college 
administrator. In general, the colleges are hav- 
ing the most varied experience in the repayment 
of loans. The President of a small although first- 
rate and historic college in central New York says 
that loans which he makes privately out of funds 
under his personal control are always paid, but 
that loans or remissions made in the tuition are 
defaulted to the extent of about one-half. The 
President of a New England college writes : 

Our experience coincides with the general one, that 
loans are held as very light obhgations by the students. 
The working of our loan fund has been a great disap- 
pointment. ... I fear that the almost universal practice 
of indiscriminate largess has debauched and demoralized 
the financial conscience of students. 

But the President of an Ohio college makes 
the following statement respecting its scholarship 
funds : 



The fund was founded in September, 1882, and the 
original amount was fifteen thousand dollars. Half of 
the amount repaid is to be added to the principal. 



Present endowment .... 


. . $17,544.05 


Total assistance loaned . . . 


. . 15,710.00 


Total loan notes matured . . 


. . 8,275.00 


Total notes taken up ... . 


r . 5,088.10 


Total matured and unpaid . . 


. . 3,186.90 


Total extended by treasurer . 


. . 1,260.00 


Total due and uncollected . . 


. . 1,926.90 


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Financial Relations 

Experience would show tliat about eight per cent, of the 
notes (in recent years) are taken up before maturity, and 
fifty per cent, at maturity. I do not think that more than 
one per cent., if so much, is wholly uncoUectable. 

The President of a Colorado college says : 

When we have made loans we have had very good 
experience in having the money paid back with fair 
promptness. 

Another college President in one of the Middle 
States says that he should " estimate the returned 
loans at about thirty per cent, of the entire amounts 
loaned." An officer of another conspicuous college 
also in the Middle States says : 

Students whose tuition is remitted, and who do not 
enter the ministry, are expected to refund the entire 
amount after graduation as soon as they can do so with- 
out serious financial embarrassment. We do not require 
a written obligation; and few ever refund! . . . We 
have a small loan fund, and require those receiving aid 
from it to give a note payable one year after graduation. 
These notes are usually paid. 

The general inference to be derived from the 
experience of our colleges in respect to the repay- 
ment of loans is that, if care be taken in the mak- 
ing of the loans, and if a wise endeavor be made to 
secure their repayment, the larger part of the 
amount loaned will be repaid. But it is also evi- 
dent that, if care and pains be not taken in the 
making of loans, or if care and pains be lacking in 

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securing repayment, only a small percentage will be 
repaid. College graduates, like all other members 
of humanity, need to be reminded of their obliga- 
tions. 

One should not neglect to say that in this whole 
business is a single element which is evil, and only 
evil. This element relates to the influence of the 
debt over the man who owes it, who in ethical 
indifference or in financial irresponsibility allows 
the obligation to run on year after year without 
making any attempt to remove it. The condition 
in which he allows himself to be arises from his 
lack of honor, and this instance of his faithlessness 
tends to augment the evil out of which it itself 
springs. If he be at all sensitive, too, the debt 
often returns to his mind in a way to lessen the 
pleasure which the thought of his college ought to 
give him, and also it may tend to lessen the thor- 
oughness of his enjoyment in many of the plea- 
sures of life to which general principles give him 
a full right. It is to be said that there are stu- 
dents, and poor and worthy ones, too, to whom the 
college should not, even for their own sake, loan a 
dollar. They must be saved from themselves. 

As to the amount that should thus be loaned to 
students, two or three rules are evident : First, the 
amount should be sufficient to make an education 
possible. Second, the amount should not be so 
large as to lessen the self-respect or the self-activ- 
ity of the recipient. And, third, the amount should 
be sufficient to restrain the student from doing too 
much work for self-support ; for the college finds 

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Financial Relations 

that certain men of activity, who are unwilling 
to borrow money, sacrifice the value of their col- 
lege course for the sake of earning money. 

One remark should be added to this general dis- 
cussion. It is the lack of wisdom shown in aiding 
special classes of students. For generations the 
American college has been inclined to aid those 
who propose to become ministers, and also those 
who are the sons of ministers or of missionaries. 
The bestowal of this kind of aid has arisen in no 
small degree from the colleges being, in their 
origin, institutions for the education of ministers. 
The larger part of our colleges, too, have been 
founded by churches, or by the ministers of these 
churches. Therefore favor has been shown to the 
sons of clergymen and to those who propose to 
become clergymen. It cannot now be doubted 
that this method is thoroughly bad. It tends to 
give advantages to one class— or it may be said 
that it tends to put disadvantages upon one class 
—of students, who should not be thus subjected to 
a disadvantage, and who, if the condition be re- 
garded as an advantage, should not receive this 
benefit. Students in colleges do not, as a rule, 
possess sufficient maturity, or have not adequately 
considered the purpose of their collegiate career, 
to make a just claim for pecuniary aid upon this 
ground. Let students be aided as individuals, but 
never let them be helped because they are, or pro- 
pose to be, members of a certain professional or 
other class. 

I do not now say a word with reference to those 

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who propose to become ministers who have akeady 
entered upon their professional studies. This is a 
question entirely apart from granting aid to them 
while they are undergraduates. 

The following principles emerge from these con- 
siderations, which should be maintained in giving 
aid to students in college: 

1. Every grant of aid should be made upon the 
ground of the claims of the individual concerned. 
The good health and promise of life of the appli- 
cant should be considered. 

2. In granting aid, evidence should be based so 
far as possible upon the man himself rather than 
upon testimony about the man. 

3. The amount of aid granted should vary 
according to the need, character, and promise of 
usefulness of the applicant. 

4. In case testimony is required, the testimony 
should be secured from witnesses outside the appli- 
cant's family as well as within. 

5. All aid should promote the self-respect and 
manliness of the student receiving it. 

6. No aid should be given to classes of students 
as classes. 

7. All grants of aid should be confined to one 
year ; and no assurance should be given of aid for 
more than one year, unless the grounds of the 
award still obtain. 

8. Every wise and proper means should be used 
to impress upon the student the debt of gratitude 
that he owes the college ; but there should be no 
badgering. 

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Financial Relations 

9. The college should follow up each loan with 
courteous care, in order to secure repayment. 



IV 

USELESS THOUGH WELL-MEANT ENDOWMENT 

Not for one instant can it be doubted that the 
cause of the higher education represents the best 
object for the bestowal of general benevolence. Mr. 
Courtney Stanhope Kenny, in his remarkable book, 
"Endowed Charities" (pp. 238-240), suggests six 
rules for benevolence : 

1. Of two ways of palliating an evil, we must choose 
the more powerful. 

2. Relief which removes the causes of the evil is better 
than that which palliates or increases it. 

3. If we must choose among forms of relief that only 
assuage the evil without removing its cause, those— if of 
equal potency — are to he preferred which produce least 
new evil. 

4. The graver the evil, the more desirable is the charity 
that relieves it. 

5. An inevitable evil is more deserving of relief than 
an avoidable one. 

6. An unexpected evil is more deserving of relief than 
one that could be foreseen. 

These rules are wise, but it is to be said at 
once that they are largely of a negative charac- 
ter; they are rules, too, rather than principles. 
A principle of benevolence, as that principle 

22} 



Financial Relations 

may be applied to endowment, is that endowments 
should be given to those philanthropic works the 
demand for which we wish to increase. Although 
this principle has certain evident limitations or 
exceptions, yet its application is broad and gen- 
erally sound. It applies to the ordinary stable 
conditions of life. One does not wish the de- 
mand for poorhouses to increase, and poorhouses 
should not be endowed; one does not wish the 
demand for institutions and agencies for relieving 
the poor to increase, and no one of these institu- 
tions and agencies is a worthy object for endow- 
ment. But one does wish the demand for education, 
higher and lower, and the demand for scientific re- 
search, to increase, and these causes are worthy 
objects of endowment. By endowing poorhouses 
one makes paupers ; by endowing colleges one 
makes scholars. Each endowment creates what 
it is ordained to create. 

It is to be said that the famous arguments of 
Turgot and of Adam Smith against foundations 
have rather gained than diminished in force as 
the arguments are applied to causes other than the 
higher education. Turgot's argument in the article 
on " Foundations " in the " Encyclopedic " is still a 
masterpiece. He states that the intellectual diffi- 
culties are so great, and the social problems so 
complex, which one who wishes to be a founder 
must meet, that he must be the boldest man who 
would be willing to run such risks. It is difficult, 
too, for the philanthropist to diagnose the disease 
and to distinguish its essential nature beneath 

224 



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superficial appearances. He is in peril of mistak- 
ing effect for cause, and cause for effect. Even if lie 
has, at great pains, reached the root of the disease, 
the difficulty of discovering a remedy is no less 
great. Many remedies which have been applied 
have increased the evil, as, for instance, the erec- 
tion of foundling hospitals, which has tended to 
augment the evil out of which the need for such 
hospitals has grown. Furthermore, if a proper 
remedy be discovered for an evil for a short time, 
it is very much more difficult to apply this remedy 
through the long time in which a foundation is 
supposed to last. The difficulties, therefore, of 
making a worthy foundation are so great that 
Turgot believes that it is better not to attempt to 
lay foundations. 

This argument is reinforced by Adam Smith. 
The great economist asks : 

Have these public endowments contributed in general 
to promote the end of their institutions? Have they 
contributed to encourage the diligence and to improve 
the abilities of the teachers? Have they directed the 
course of education toward objects more useful, both to 
the individual and to the public, than those to which it 
would naturally have gone of its own accord ? ... In 
every profession the exertion of the greater part of those 
who exercise it is always in proportion to the necessity 
they are under of making that exertion. . . . The endow- 
ments of schools and colleges have necessarily diminished 
more or less the necessity of application in the teachers.^ 

1 "The Wealth of Nations," Book V, Part III. Chap. I. Art. II, 
" Of the Expense of the Institutions for the Education of Youth." 

16 225 



Financial Relations 

But it is to be said that the argument of Turgot is 
directed toward the limitation of certain evils ; it is 
not directed toward the augmentation of the good. 
It is evident that his argument does not apply to 
educational endowments with anything like the 
force with which it applies to charitable endow- 
ments. The pursuit of knowledge, the promotion 
of research, the offering of opportunities for cul- 
ture, the establishment of facilities for learning, 
will represent the worthiest objects so long as 
humanity has a being at all like its present being. 
The evils which the great Frenchman alludes to, 
however alarming in the case of many charities of 
England, do not appear in the administrations of 
the two oldest and most illustrious universities 
of England. These evils, too, have never appeared 
in any appreciable degree in the life and work of 
American colleges. 

In reference to the argument of Adam Smith, it 
is to be said, and briefly, that endowment is abso- 
lutely necessary to the carrying on of the higher 
education. The revenue derived from fees is far 
from being sufficient to support the college or the 
university. The general evil to which he alludes 
may attend the establishment of certain founda- 
tions, but without the foundations no university 
could maintain its existence for a year. The uni- 
versities of England, of the United States, and of 
Germany are alike in not being able to support 
themselves on the fees received from their stu- 
dents. 

The proper province of endowment is repre- 
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seuted in the spiritual and intellectual interests of 
man rather than in his physical and material in- 
terests. Voluntary benevolence need not concern 
itself with evils which the state can and will 
remedy. Those evils which are the most obvious 
are physical and material evils. Private and vol- 
untary benevolence should therefore concern itself 
first with the intellectual and spiritual welfare of 
man. The individual need not attempt to do that 
which the community as a legal corporate body will 
do. It is also to be said, and with gratitude, that 
organized society is constantly enlarging its field 
of beneficence; it is constantly taking up work 
and works which were formerly done through in- 
dividuals. As the man who is by nature a pioneer 
retires into the forest at each advance of orderly 
and civilized society, so the pioneer in good works 
surrenders fields which he has formerly worked 
to the organized beneficence of the community. 
The kindergarten schools of certain cities were 
established and maintained for years by private 
beneficence. Their usefulness in time became so 
evident that they have been incorporated into the 
public-school system. The relief of the poor was 
formerly a matter for private beneficence. It has 
now largely come to be a matter of public and legal 
action. The physical and material evils of human- 
ity are more evident to the ordinary observer than 
the spiritual and intellectual needs, and these more 
evident needs are first taken up by the community, 
and afterward the less apparent ones — the spiritual 
and intellectual. And therefore, until the organ- 

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ized community is able to perceive these spiritual 
and intellectual needs, and to supply them, they 
present the most promising field for voluntary 
and personal beneficence. 

One cannot deny that the history of endowments 
other than educational is, on the whole, a rather 
sad one. Such history hardly belongs to the 
United States. This nation is altogether too 
young, and has been too poor, to have made 
much history of this character. Yet when one 
turns to the mother-country he finds that the 
time has been long enough and wealth has been 
sufficient to allow the making of a history of en- 
dowed charities. This history furnishes sufficient 
opportunity for keen and profound analysis and 
diagnosis. For the evils of the community have 
not been understood. Remedies have not been 
adjusted to the evils. Sums too large have been 
donated to remove small evils, and the result has 
been an increase of evils ; sums too small have been 
donated to remove lai*ge evils, and the result has 
been unremunerative expenditure. Help has too 
often been given in such a way as to take away 
the power of self-help. Endowments have bee-n 
rendered superfluous through change of conditions. 
The law of proportions has not been observed. 
Some instances of these proportions are fur- 
nished by Mr. Kenny in his book, "Endowed 
Charities " : 

Admiral B. M. Kelly left ninety thousand pounds 
to found a school for sons of officers in the navy. 
The lads were to have a first-class education up to the 

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age of eighteen. But the head-master's salary was only 
to amount to " the value of one hundred bushels of 
wheat/' which, as the charity commissioners said, was 
''ludicrously inadequate." Many further difBculties 
arose " from the minuteness with which the testator, who 
was a sailor, and evidently knew little about schools," 
had given directions. 

We have pointed out many important endowments 
where very large funds are producing at present little or 
even no result. Thus, Thame Grammar School had two 
masters and one bo}^ 5 and those at Sutton Coldfield (en- 
dowed with £467 a year), Mancetter (£288 a year), and 
Little Walsingham (£110 a year) were sometimes with- 
out any boys at all, while the evidence of the assistant 
commissioners included such testimony as the following : 
''At Bath an income of £461 appears to hinder rather 
than promote the education of the citizens, and does 
nothing for the neighborhood." "The fine foundation 
at Market Bosworth, now £792 a year, is reported to be 
at present useless." Gloucestershire and Herefordshire 
require special notice for the generally unsatisfactory 
condition of their endowed schools. "Gloucestershire 
has seventeen foundations for secondary education, and 
none of these is reported to be at all efficient." " It is 
difficult to understand that Masham School serves any 
useful purpose." "A school of this kind [Easingwold] 
does great harm to the community." " This school 
[Bridlington] in its present state hinders rather than 
promotes the civilization of the place." "Much of the 
vitality of Doncaster School is owing to the fact that it 
possesses none of the wealth which in so many instances 
proves to be an encouragement to indolence." 

Mr. Cumin tells the story of an old lady who gave away 
twenty pounds' worth of flannel every Christmas. The 
Christmas after she died the poor people came to the 

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rector and complained, " If we had known she was going 
to die, we would have saved our harvest money and bought 
flannel." 

An instance of a very comprehensive and yet very 
futile foundation is afforded by that of Mr, Henry Smith, 
who in 1626 left large sums for four objects. Part was 
to go in redeeming captives from pirates ; but since 1723 
no captive has been found on whom it could be spent. 
Part, now producing £8235 a year, was to go in doles, 
and is distributed, with the usual results, among 209 dis- 
tricts, in one of which it is given to one household out of 
every two, in another to two households out of every 
three, and in another, according to the vicar, " a charity 
was never worse applied; its effects are demoralizing." 
Part, again, was reserved for Mr. Smith's poor relations, 
and is still distributed among them to the extent of 
£6797 a year, with the result of making it the interest 
of some hundreds of persons not to work and get on in 
life. The final part was to be devoted to buying impro- 
priations for preachers, and its income is distributed 
among the poor clergy, though the resulting benefit is 
found to be more than counterbalanced by the disap- 
pointment caused to the unsuccessful applicants, the 
trouble of the canvassing, and the perilous habit which 
it too often inspires of begging with colorable tales of 
poverty. 

These instances, 'whicli, though nnmerous, might 
be greatly increased, are more than sufficient to 
prove the dov^nright, sheer, absolute foolishness 
of many benevolent men. On the whole, men's 
hearts are better than their heads, their v^ills than 
their intellects. Men often choose the highest 
objects known to them, and with the heartiest 

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Financial Relations 

enthusiasm adopt schemes of benevolence which 
seem to them the wisest. But their knowledge is 
narrow, and their schemes for executing their 
benevolent intentions are not wise. The number 
of men and women who every day are devoting 
their fortunes, time, and labor to benevolence is 
constantly increasing. One cannot witness these 
abounding examples of sacrifice without feelings 
of the deepest gratitude. But one is too often 
saddened and chagrined on learning that these 
benevolences, so generously conceived, are not the 
product of a comprehensive and reflective wisdom. 
Too often they represent wasted labor and fruitless 
self-sacrifice. 

Such a condition, however, does not usually 
belong to endowments given to the higher educa- 
tion; for the cause of the higher education is so 
comprehensive, and its interests so diverse, that it 
is only with extreme and most complete foolishness 
that one can make a mistake in giving to the col- 
lege or university. For the university is designed 
to make the best man ; and it commands the ser- 
vices of the best men as teachers of youth, as 
trustees of funds, and as administrators of large 
undertakings. No corporations in the United 
States are able to command so great talent as the 
cr liege corporations. One reason of this present 
condition is found in the exalted purposes which 
the college is ordained to secure. A further reason 
lies in the fact that the financial trusts placed in 
these administrators are large. The great number 
of small endowments made in the cause of charity 

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in England has in many cases resulted in waste, 
because the smallness of these sums could not 
command men of ability in their management. 
But the American college holding large sums of 
money has been able to secure the wisest legal 
talent and the most worthy moral ability. It is 
also not to be forgotten that the college stands for 
certain lasting needs of humanity. One can hardly 
conceive of changes occurring in the race so great 
as to render the need of a trained judgment and 
the usefulness of stores of knowledge superfluous. 
The changes in the condition of humanity have 
rendered many trusts absolutely worthless. Such 
changes cannot, with any degree of probability, 
occur in those conditions which education repre- 
sents to such an extent that funds given to that 
cause will become worthless. 

Furthermore, the higher education represents 
conditions which are the least obtrusive. The 
physical sufferings of man appeal, as I have inti- 
mated, to every one; his intellectual wants do 
not. Those persons, therefore, to whom these 
wants do appeal as worthy should be especially 
solicitous to fill them. The college and the uni- 
versity also appeal to the benevolence of the 
individual through the fact that it is a question 
how far the community should tax itself for the 
promotion of the higher intellectual welfare. But 
there is no question that the higher intellectual 
interests of men are vitally related to all the in- 
terests of humanity. It is therefore of supreme 
importance that these interests be conserved, and 

2}2 



Financial Relations 

they therefore present themselves to one who 
has the welfare of the race at heart with peculiar 
persuasiveness. It is, moreover, never to be for- 
gotten that the college represents the most com- 
prehensive interest of humanity. This considera- 
tion is well exemplified in the fact that, in the 
revision of English charities by the charity com- 
missioners, the cause of education was judged to 
be the best cause to receive endowments which 
had been created for purposes and objects now 
no longer possible of fulfilment. It was agreed 
that endowments which had been established for 
the following purposes — " doles in money or kind ; 
marriage portions; redemption of prisoners and 
captives ; relief of poor prisoners for debt ; loans ; 
apprenticeship fees; advancement in life; or any 
purposes which have failed altogether or have be- 
come insignificant in comparison with the magni- 
tude of the endowment, if originally given to 
charitable uses in or before the year of our Lord 
one thousand and eight hundred " ^ — should be 
applied to the advancement of education. 

Truths of this character, recognized throughout 
the history of this country, and especially in the 
last seventy-five years, have resulted in the dona- 
tion of large sums of money to American colleges 
and universities. In England the money that is 
given to public uses usually goes to the establish- 
ment of a charity. There poverty has become a 
disease ; charity deals with it as a disease. In Eng- 
land, too, the interest of wealthy men is largely 

1 Kenny, "Endowed Charities," p. 198. 



Financial Relations 

given to the establishment of a family. One can- 
not read the wills of Englishmen without seeing 
that money is usually retained in the family. Such 
a purpose or principle of founding a family has 
small value in a new country. One reason of this 
condition is found in the fact that in the newer 
country families are not permanent. They are 
like a wheel — in constant revolution ; the highest 
part soon becomes the lowest, and the lowest high- 
est. There does not seem to be any strong desire 
to make them permanent. In England the domes- 
tic and the charitable demands for money are so 
great that Oxford and Cambridge are failing to 
receive their just proportion. In the United States 
institutions are more permanent than families; 
and of all our institutions those of the higher 
education — the college, the university — are the 
most permanent. The colleges and the univer- 
sities are therefore the objects of special benevo- 
lence. 

In making an educational or other foundation a 
founder should bear in mind that his foundation 
is designed to last forever. He should therefore 
constantly have in sight the fact that the future 
is sure to bring fundamental changes, and he 
should not make the conditions attending his gift 
so exact that it may at some time become worthless 
through the impossibility of their fulfilment. It 
is said that there are more than two thousand en- 
dowments for primary education in England which 
are now rendered absolutely unnecessary through 
the establishment of schools aided by the govern- 

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ment. A founder, therefore, should in general be 
content with a statement of his comprehensive 
purpose. He will find it far better to trust the 
men of the future than to try to perpetuate pres- 
ent methods. 

This endeavor to make the standards and 
methods of the time of a founder the standards 
and methods of all time receives illustration in our 
own recent history. The endeavor to give an exact 
interpretation to certain terms in the fundamental 
instruments of the Theological Seminary at An- 
dover resulted in serious loss to the seminary; 
and the endeavor of certain members and friends 
of the official Board of the seminary to interpret 
the ancient documents in the light of general prin- 
ciples has seemed to some to result in a failure 
rightly to appreciate the importance of the specific 
trust that was committed to the Board. Harvard 
College, too, in the early part of the eighteenth 
century, received, a gift to found a certain lecture- 
ship under certain conditions. By his last will 
Paul Dudley "gave to Harvard College one hun- 
dred pounds sterling, to be applied as he should 
direct ; and by an instrument under his hand and 
seal he afterward ordered the yearly interest to 
be applied to supporting an anniversary sermon 
or lecture, to be preached at the college, on the 
following topics. The first lecture was to be *for 
the proving, explaining, and proper use and 
improvement of the principles of natural reli- 
gion'; the second, 'for the confirmation, illustra- 
tion, and improvement of the great articles of the 

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Ciiristian religion'; the third, 'for the detecting, 
convicting, and exposing the idolatry, errors, and 
superstitions of the Romish Church'; the fourth, 
'for maintaining, explaining, and proving the 
validity of the ordination of ministers or pastors 
of the churches, and of their administration of the 
sacraments or ordinances of religion, as the same 
hath been practised in New England from the first 
beginning of it, and so continued to this day.'"^ 
In the college year of 1890-91 the Dudleyan lecturer 
was the Right Rev. Bishop John J. Keane, at that 
time rector of the Catholic University of America. 
His subject, it should be added, was : " For the con- 
firmation, illustration, and improvement of the great 
articles of the Christian religion, properly so called, 
or the revelation which Jesus Christ, the Son of 
God, was pleased to make, first by himself, and 
afterward by his holy apostles, to his church and 
the world for their salvation." 

Gifts made to a college or any other philanthropic 
institutions are very liable to reflect the conditions 
of the times. The gifts made to Yale College in 
the administration of President Clap, 1740-66, are 
largely qualified by the religious and ecclesiastical 
beliefs and controversies of the middle decades 
of the eighteenth century. Certain scholarships in 
the Yale Divinity School can be enjoyed only by 
those who are " of decided and hearty anti-slavery 
character, sentiments, and sympathies." It is suffi- 
cient to say that these scholarships were established 
in the year 1864. 

1 Josiah Quincy, "History of Harvard University," Vol. H, p. 139. 
2}6 



Financial Relations 

It is not wise for a founder to say exactly what 
men shall believe, or in what terms they shall ex- 
press their belief, a hundred years, or two hundred 
years, or five thousand years after he is dead. It 
is wiser for him to intrust his general purpose, with- 
out specific conditions, to the men of the future. Yet 
it is to be presumed that certain founders will be 
short-sighted, and that the most generous may lack 
wisdom. It is therefore fitting that the state 
should take upon itself the duty of supervising, so 
far as it is able, all foundations and trusts, and 
also of ultimately reversing all those which fail to 
secure their purposes. The need is not so great in 
America as in England; but even in America it 
would be well for the state to maintain a board of 
supervisors of philanthropic foundations. As Mr. 
Kenny says : 

The periodical investigation of charity affairs by a cen- 
tral authority is requisite to stimulate the activity of the 
administrators and the economy of their administration. 
For the former purpose, the state must periodically in- 
quire if the number of administrators is being kept up by 
new elections to its normal standard, and with what 
regularity each of them attends the meetings of the body. 
For the latter, it must periodically inquire into the 
receipts and expenditures of the charity. The returns of 
actual revenue must, of course, be checked by comparison 
with the amount of the revenue-producing capital. Of 
that amount the state must furnish itself with exact in- 
formation by requiring the immediate registration of 
every charitable gift. In old countries, where philan- 
thropy has run a long course before the national life has 

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reached tlie stage of centralization at which such a reg- 
ister becomes possible, its contents (like the English en- 
rolments under the Act of 1736) will cover only the later 
foundations. In such a case it must be supplemented by 
a general inquiry into the present wealth of the earlier 
ones.i 

This need of the revision of foundations is 
clearly expressed by John Stuart Mill in one of his 
essays. He says : 

At the head of the foundations which existed in the 
time of Turgot was the Catholic hierarchy, then almost 
effete, which had become irreconcilably hostile to the 
progress of the human mind, because that progress was 
no longer compatible with belief in its tenets, and which, 
to stand its ground against the advance of incredulity, 
had been driven to knit itself closely with the temporal 
despotism, to which it had once been a substantial, and 
the only existing, impediment and control. After this 
came monastic bodies, constituted ostensibly for the pur- 
pose, which derived their value chiefly from superstition, 
and now not even fulfilling what they professed, bodies 
of most of which the very existence had become one vast 
and continued imposture. Next came universities and 
academical institutions, which had once taught all that 
was then known, but, having ever since indulged their 
ease by remaining stationary, found it for their interest 
that knowledge should do so, too— institutions for edu- 
cation which kept a century behind the community they 
affected to educate, who, when Descartes appeared, pub- 
licly censured him for differing from Aristotle, and, 
when Newton appeared, anathematized him for differing 
from Descartes. There were hospitals which killed more 

1 Kenny, "Endowed Charities," p. 134. 
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of their unhappy patients than they cured ; and charities 
of which the superintendents, like the licentiate in " Gil 
Bias/' got rich by taking care of the affairs of the poor, 
or which at best made twenty beggars by giving or 
pretending to give a miserable and dependent pittance 
to one. 

The foundations, therefore, were among the grossest 
and most conspicuous of the familiar abuses of the time ; 
and beneath their shade flourished and multiplied large 
classes of men by interest and habit the protectors of all 
abuses whatsoever. What wonder that a life spent in 
practical struggle against abuses should have strongly 
prepossessed Turgot against foundations in general. Yet 
the evils existed, not because there were foundations, but 
because those foundations were perpetuities, and because 
provision was not made for their continual modification 
to meet the wants of each successive age.^ 

Every college, like every bank, in the United 
States, should frequently submit to a board con- 
stituted by legal authority a statement of its finan- 
cial condition, of the various trusts under which 
it holds its funds, and of the use which it makes 
of the income thence derived. Every institution 
of charity should be constantly ready to give an 
account of its stewardship. The State should 
supervise trusts which are made under its au- 
thority. The need of this supervision is not at 
present urgent; for college funds are small, they 
are at present well managed, and the period of our 
national existence has not been long enough to 
introduce many fundamental changes into society. 

1 Mill, "Dissertations and Discussions," Vol. I, p. 52. 
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But it will become urgent with, enlarging collegiate 
wealth and increasing diversity of conditions. 

This review brings us to certain rather impor- 
tant conclusions, for the number of people in the 
United States who desire to make the noblest and 
most lasting use of their wealth is already large 
and is constantly increasing. One conclusion is 
that it is not the part of wisdom to surround a 
foundation with very specific conditions. A second 
is that if a gift is so surrounded, means of relief 
should be afforded in a general permission to use it 
in the promotion of a general purpose. A third con- 
clusion is that a founder should trust the men of the 
future to carry out his general purpose. He should 
not lay down certain narrow methods or merely 
technical rules for their following. The good men 
of A.D. 3901 will have more wisdom for administer- 
ing a trust made two thousand years before than 
any man living in 1901 can suggest to them. The 
last conclusion, which English and American his- 
tory confirms, is that the agency through which 
wealth— be it ten thousand dollars or ten millions 
— is most certain of doing the most good, to the 
most people, for the longest time, and in the widest 
realms, is the college and the university. 

V 

FREEDOM FEOM TAXATION 

The constitutions of the several States usually 
declare that every member of society shall pay his 

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just share toward tlie support of the government. 
It is affirmed that all property shall bear its proper 
proportion of taxation. The constitutions of the 
several States also make certain exemptions from 
taxation. These exemptions usually include pub- 
lic school-houses and apparatus, churches, public 
libraries, academies, colleges, and universities. 

The constitutional provisions respecting exemp- 
tions are commonly made good in the statutory law. 
This law is differently expressed in the statutes 
of the different States, but in general the law is 
the same. It exempts from taxation property 
used for collegiate and similar purposes. In Mas- 
sachusetts a well-known statute^ declares, "The 
personal property of literary, benevolent, charita- 
ble, and scientific institutions and temperance 
societies incorporated within this commonwealth, 
and the real estate belonging to such institutions 
occupied by them or their officers for the purposes 
for which they were incorporated," are free from 
taxation. The Connecticut statute is more specific. 
It runs as follows : " Funds and estates which have 
been or may be granted to the President and Fel- 
lows of Yale College, Trinity College, or Wesleyan 
University, and by them respectively invested 
and held for the use of such institutions, shall, 
with the income thereof, remain exempt from tax- 
ation, provided that neither of said corporations 
shall ever hold in this State real estate free from 
taxation affording an annual income of more than 

1 Supplements to the Public Statutes of Massachusetts, 1889-95, 
c. 465. 

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six thousand dollars." The New York statute is 
more akin to that of Massachusetts : " Every build- 
ing erected for the use of a college," and used by 
it, and all stocks owned by literary and charitable 
institutions, are free from taxation. The statutes 
of Ohio and of Illinois are similar. 

The essential meaning of these laws, as inter- 
preted by the courts, is that the property of a col- 
lege necessarily used for collegiate purposes is not 
to be taxed. In property necessarily used for col- 
legiate purposes are usually included (1) the ground 
requisite for the location of buildings and property 
for the securing of the fitting use of these build- 
ings, (2) halls for the purposes of giving and hear- 
ing lectures and recitations, (3) laboratories and 
their apparatus, (4) libraries, including both build- 
ings and books, (5) gymnasium and its apparatus, 
(6) astronomical observatories and their apparatus. 
Regarding the taxing of property of this character 
I am not aware that any question has arisen. Such 
property is so necessary for the maintenance of 
the college that without it the college could not be 
maintained. 

The essential meaning of the statute, moreover, 
is in most States— with possible exceptions aris- 
ing from specific legislation— that real property 
belonging to a college which is owned for the 
purpose of securing revenue is not exempted 
from taxation. Such property ordinarily includes 
buildings leased for commercial and similar pur- 
poses. It is well known that a few of the larger, 
older, or more conspicuous colleges have invested 

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large amounts of their funds in real estate. Har- 
vard owns large values in real property in Boston, 
Columbia in New York, and Chicago University 
in Chicago. In such cases the college corporation 
becomes a landlord, and is, so far as I know, in 
every instance prepared to assent to a proper 
imposition of taxation, like any other landlord. 
To this general condition there are, of course, a 
few exceptions. One of these exceptions belongs 
to Harvard College. By a certain privilege granted 
in the Charter of 1650 Harvard College was ex- 
empted from all taxes on real estate not exceeding 
the value at that time of five hundred pounds per 
annum. Under this exemption an estate on Wash- 
ington Street, Boston, now occupied by a book- 
selling and book-publishing house, is free from 
taxes. The Northwestern University of Illinois 
also enjoys a similar exemption upon certain of 
its holdings of valuable real estate in the city of 
Chicago. 

But between property which a college must pos- 
sess in order to be a college and to do college work 
and property which it does possess in order to 
raise a revenue, may lie, and does lie, property 
which, on the one hand, is not absolutely neces- 
sary to the existence and maintenance of the col- 
lege, but which yet does promote its maintenance 
and augment its efficiency as a means of education, 
and, on the other hand, property which has no 
relation at all to the immediate promotion of the 
great purposes of the college, and yet which does 
result in actually increasing the revenue of the 

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college. Such property placed midway between 
property absolutely necessary for collegiate pur- 
poses and property of an income-bearing char- 
acter includes such real estate as dormitories, 
club-houses occupied by the students, and dwell- 
ing-houses occupied by the professors. At exactly 
this point falls the whole ictus of the whole ques- 
tion of the taxation of college property. The 
simple question is whether property of this sort 
should be taxed or should be exempted from tax- 
ation. 

It is clear that dormitories are not necessary for 
the maintenance of certain colleges, for certain 
colleges do exist and are efficient without dormi- 
tories. Columbia University has no dormitories ; 
likewise the University of Michigan and the Uni- 
versity of Minnesota, institutions enrolling some 
three thousand students each, are without dormi- 
tories. On the other hand, many colleges, and 
certainly most of the older colleges, have adopted 
the dormitory system of residence. To remove 
Holworthy or Thayer or Weld from Harvard, or 
Farnham or Durfee from Yale, or old Nassau from 
Princeton, would represent an elimination of what 
has proved to very many men a valuable condition 
of their college course. To exclude the dormitory 
method from Vassar or from Wellesley or from 
Smith or from Bryn Mawr would probably re- 
sult in the dissolution of the colleges themselves. 
Neither Poughkeepsie nor the town of Wellesley 
nor the city of Northampton nor the village of 
Bryn Mawr could offer the proper residences for 

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the students who are at present members of 
these institutions. On the other hand, although 
the Western Reserve College for Women has a 
dormitory, yet this college could exist if this 
dormitory were not built. Radcliffe College in 
Cambridge has enjoyedprosperity without offering 
special homes to its students. 

It is also to be said that the income from certain 
of these halls of residence amounts to a large an- 
nual revenue. The money thus derived is put into 
the college chest and is spent for purposes similar 
to those for which money derived from business 
blocks or from investments in bonds and stocks 
is used. 

It may, therefore, be af&rmed that in certain 
colleges the dormitory is as necessary to the carry- 
ing on of the college as is a hall of recitation. In 
other colleges it is not so necessary. In certain col- 
leges the claim might worthily be made, upon the 
evidence presented on one side, that the dormi- 
tory is conducive to the prosperity of the col- 
lege. In the same colleges arguments might be 
presented showing that the dormitory is of slight 
value. The verdict in respect to the taxation of 
such property, on whatever ground or of whatever 
content, would not be generally satisfactory. 

The legal relation in which the houses belonging 
to the college corporation and occupied by college 
teachers stand is somewhat similar and somewhat 
dissimilar to that constituted by the dormitories 
of the students. The dwelling-house owned by a 
college and occupied by a teacher is primarily used 

245 



7 



Financial Relations 

as a means of increasing the income of tlie college. 
The professor occupying it does not receive so 
large an annual stipend from the college as he 
would were he not occupying it. This dwelling- 
house, therefore, stands on the basis of an income- 
bearing business block. It is also evident that in 
many cases, though not in all, it is especially pro- 
motive of the welfare of the college for profes- 
sors to occupy houses in close proximity to the 
college. A few professors in certain of our larger 
colleges situated in a metropolis may live a dozen 
or more miles from the halls of lectures and recita- 
tions, but in other instances such conditions are 
not possible. Certainly it would usually be advan- 
tageous for all the residences of college teachers 
to be near to the college halls. The worth of a 
teacher to a college is promoted by the intimacy 
of his association with all college elements and 
relations. 

It is therefore evident that the statute of ex- 
emptions touching college property as embodied 
in the unnecessary and yet income-producing real 
estate represents one of those laws which the dif- 
ferent courts in different States, and the same 
court in the same State with different judges on 
the bench, might interpret differently. 

Among the more famous cases decided by the 
Massachusetts court touching the taxation of col- 
lege property is the case of the distinguished 
mathematician. Professor Benjamin Peirce, versus 
the inhabitants of Cambridge. This case was 
decided in January,. 1849. It appears that the 

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President and Fellows of Harvard College built a 
dwelling-house on land of the corporation within 
the college yard, and leased the same to Professor 
Peirce, to be occupied by him and his family as a 
residence at a certain annual charge. The court 
held that this property thus occupied could not be 
exempt, although in a later decision of the court 
upon a similar matter it was affirmed that if the 
house had been occupied by Professor Peirce with- 
out his paying rent it could have been exempted. 
A somewhat similar case was decided in favor of 
an institution of learning nineteen years after the 
case of Professor Peirce. This was a case of the 
Trustees of Wesleyan Academy of Wilbraham, 
Massachusetts, against the town of Wilbraham. 
It appears that the Trustees of the academy de- 
sired that a farm and certain farming stock belong- 
ing to them and used for the support of the academy 
be exempted from taxation. The decision of the 
court was, " A farm and the farming stock owned 
by an institution incorporated within this com- 
monwealth for the education of youth, and by it 
worked solely to raise produce for the boarding- 
house kept by the institution to supply board to 
the students at its actual cost, is exempted." In 
another Massachusetts case, the Massachusetts 
General Hospital versus the inhabitants of Somer- 
ville, it was held by the court that the purposes 
for which the real estate is used represent the 
ground upon which exemption may be claimed. 

Among the more recent and more important of all 
decisions is that rendered by the Supreme Court 

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of Massachusetts in the case of Williams College 
and Williamstown. In this decision it is declared 
that: 

Lands with dwelling-houses thereon owned by a college 
and occupied as residences by persons engaged solely in 
the instruction or government of the college or in the 
care of its property, under parole agreements whereby 
each is to receive as salary a stated sum monthly and the 
use of the estate while in the service of the college, for 
which use a certain sum is deducted from the amount of 
the salary, are not exempt from taxation under Public 
Statutes, c. 11, sec. 5, cl. 3, as amended by Statutes of 
1889, c. 465. 

But a still more important case is the recent 
case known as " the President and Fellows of Har- 
vard College versus the assessors of Cambridge." 
This is a case which will probably rank along with 
the case of Professor Benjamin Peirce versus the 
inhabitants of Cambridge, decided in January, 
1849. The essence of the second case, as also, in 
part at least, the basis of the earlier case, is found 
in the Massachusetts Constitution of 1780, in which 
it is declared that the " President and Fellows of 
Harvard College, in their corporate capacity, and 
their successors in that capacity, their officers, and 
servants, shall have, hold, use, exercise, and enjoy 
all powers, authorities, rights, liberties, privileges, 
immunities, and franchises which they now have, 
or are entitled to have, hold, use, exercise, and 
enjoy; and the same are hereby ratified and con- 
firmed unto them, the said President and Fellows 

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of Harvard College, and to their successors, and to 
their officers and servants, respectively, forever." 
Elsewhere in the Constitution it is provided that 
" wisdom and knowledge, as well as virtue, diffused 
generally among the body of the people, being 
necessary for the preservation of their rights and 
liberties, and as these depend on spreading the 
opportunities and advantages of education in the 
various parts of the country and among the differ- 
ent orders of the people, it shall be the duty of the 
legislatures and magistrates, in all future periods 
of the commonwealth, to cherish the interests of 
literature and science, and all seminaries of them, 
especially the university at Cambridge, public 
schools and grammar schools in the towns." 

The method of carrying out these provisions of 
the Constitution is a statute which, in its final form 
of 1889, provides that "the personal property of 
literary, benevolent, charitable, and scientific in- 
stitutions and temperance societies incorporated 
within this commonwealth, and the real estate 
belonging to such institutions, occupied by them 
or their officers for the purpose for which they are 
incorporated," shall be exempt from taxation. 

The essence of this decision of the Supreme 
Court of Massachusetts is that property belonging 
to a college and used for the administration of col- 
lege affairs is exempt from taxation. In property 
used for college purposes are included college dor- 
mitories and dining-halls, the house of the Presi- 
dent, and houses occupied by Deans and similar 
officers. 

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Financial Relations 

In Ohio, witli a law quite similar to the Massa- 
chusetts law and that of other States, the courts 
have usually decreed that property used imme- 
diately and directly for educational purposes is 
exempt, but that property used for the support 
of education is not exempt. For instance, the 
property of Western Reserve University, includ- 
ing halls of recitation, libraries, laboratories, is 
free from taxation, but a piece of land which the 
university bought in the year 1890, lying near to 
but separated from the university campus, al- 
though bought for the purpose of erecting a col- 
lege building thereupon, could not be exempted. 
It was said by the assessors that if a building, 
however small, were thereon erected and used 
for college purposes, the tract should be made 
free from tax3,tion, but until the land was put to 
that specified purpose it must bear its share of the 
public burden. A similar view is held in certain 
States respecting the taxation of ecclesiastical prop- 
erty. The building used for purposes of worship 
and of instruction is free from taxes, but the par- 
sonage or the place of resideiice of priest or min- 
ister is taxed. 

A decision made in the Illinois courts in the case 
of the Northwestern University is similar. Prop- 
erty is not to be exempted which is owned by 
educational corporations which is not used itself 
directly in aid of educational purposes and which 
is held for profit merely, although the profits are 
devoted to the purposes of education. 

It is to be observed that the present movement 
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Financial Relations 

toward the taxation of college property is a munici- 
pal movement. It has arisen in and from the towns 
or cities in which the colleges themselves are lo- 
cated. The demand would not have arisen at all 
from the States themselves. Cambridge, not Mas- 
sachusetts, asks that the property of Harvard 
University be taxed. Williamstown, and not Mas- 
sachusetts, asks that the property of Williams Col- 
lege be taxed. New Haven, and not Connecticut, 
asks that the property of Yale University be taxed. 
Of course several motives may arise in causing 
the assessors of a town to use their presumed right 
to tax college property. The motive to lessen the 
rate of taxation is usually one, and a worthy 
motive. The desire to make the amount of tax- 
able property as large as possible in order to lessen 
the burden of each citizen is a laudable desire. 
Both in Cambridge, Williamstown, and Wellesley 
the real-estate holdings of the colleges represent a 
proportion of the taxable realty of those towns, 
and in the case of Wellesley and Williamstown the 
proportion is large. But behind this motive, in 
certain college towns, lies as a motive a certain 
peculiar and interesting condition. It is the con- 
dition of antagonism or indifference. This condi- 
tion is frequently found to exist between the 
college people and the town people. This condi- 
tion is not a condition of the "town" versus the 
"gown," which thrusts itself forward in juvenile 
or other riots, and which has, indeed, emerged in 
conflicts of many sorts for a thousand years of 
academic history, but it is a condition simply of 

251 



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more or less marked antagonism and indifference. 
The antagonism, be it said, exists more on the part 
of the town, and the indifference more on the part 
of the college. This relation, or lack of relation, 
grows out of certain advantages possessed by the 
scholarly, cultured, and apparently well-to-do part 
of the community which are not possessed by those 
who may have no college association. This condi- 
tion is a condition of human nature. It cannot be 
altered except by altering human nature. Be it 
said, however, that this sentiment of antagonism 
exists only in a part of the non-collegiate com- 
munity ; and be it also said that this mood of in- 
difference is not so strong as most people believe. 
For the interest of the college people in the town 
or city in which the college is located is an interest 
usually broad if not keen. I also believe that the 
antagonism that is sometimes rather rampant on 
the part of the community against the college 
which is found in its midst is not so ^dolent as is 
frequently believed. For the advantages which a 
college can render to a community are of the greatest 
worth. The mere naming of them carries along an 
intimation of their value. The college usually fur- 
nishes to the community noble specimens of the art 
of the architect and of the landscape-gardener. The 
best buildings and the most precious scenes of Cam- 
bridge and Xew Haven, of Amherst and of Wil- 
liamstown, are the college buildings and the college 
grounds. The college also gives to the community 
museums, libraries, art-galleries for the preserva- 
tion or the exhibition of the great works of nature 

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Financial Relations 

or of man. It is not also to be denied that the 
college adds to the resident body of the community 
a certain number of families of education and of 
culture, whose presence in the community tends to 
elevate its standards of living and to ennoble its 
sentiments. Into the smaller town, too, the col- 
lege brings from time to time great men, the seeing 
of whom and the hearing of whom represent a 
positive addition to the best forces of the com- 
munity. It is further to be noted that the college 
offers to the community an example of the con- 
tinuity of the highest life. In a new community 
such an example is of the greatest worth. The 
college, furthermore, extends the reputation of the 
town in which it is located. Who' would have 
known of Hanover but for Dartmouth ! or who of 
Brunswick but for BowdoinI or who of Oberlin 
but for the college bearing its name? These in- 
stances, and many others that might be named, 
are proof of the worth of a college to the com- 
munity. 

Townships and municipalities usually in advance 
of the location of a college recognize what a college 
may do for the community in which it is placed. 
If it is known that a college is to be founded in a 
certain general neighborhood, each town of that 
neighborhood becomes a claimant. Portland, Yar- 
mouth, and other places, as well as Brunswick, 
asked for the location of Bowdoin. Akron gave 
$60,000 m order to secure Buchtel College. Fair- 
field, Iowa, a small town, gave $29,000 that Par- 
sons College might there be placed. Fifty years 

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Financial Relations 

ago Davenport gave $1400 in order that Iowa 
College might there be founded, although after- 
ward it was moved nearer the center of the State. 
Albion, Michigan, gave a liberal subscription 
through its citizens for securing the college bear- 
ing that name for its village. Towns are known 
which have voted to give a site, building, and 
freedom from taxation for a term of years, in or- 
der to secure a shoe factory. Is a college better 
than a shoe factory ? 

The question of the taxation of college property 
is, in respect to the immediate financial gain to be 
secured from that taxation, primarily a question 
for the municipality in which the college is located. 
But the question in its other relations is a question 
which belongs to the people of the whole State. 
This question is a question which may be settled 
by the people of a State as represented in its legis- 
lature, and it may be at once and clearly settled. 
In case the people of a State do not wish to tax 
the property of their colleges, such as professors' 
houses and students' dormitories, they can at once 
make laws freeing this property from these im- 
posts. In case the people of Massachusetts do not 
wish to tax the house occupied by the President 
of Harvard College and similar property, it is very 
easy for the General Court to free such property 
from taxation. 

The burden of the freedom of collegiate property 
from taxation is felt, if felt at all, by the town in 
which the college is located. In a recent interview, 
an officer of the city of Cambridge is reported to 

254 



Financial Relations 

have said that when the college dormitories are 
assessed the high rate of taxation would be re- 
duced. One can sympathize with the people of 
the smaller towns more than with the people of 
Cambridge, who do feel the burden of taxation 
resting more heavily upon themselves by rea- 
son of the college exemptions. But there is a 
method of relief from this burden which is per- 
fectly consistent with the continuance of the col- 
lege exemption. This method consists in allowing 
the people of the whole State to share the burden. 
In a word, let the college pay taxes on its property, 
such as professors' houses or students' dormitories, 
as well as upon business blocks. If one wish, let 
it pay a tax upon its entire property, including 
halls of recitation, laboratories, libraries, and mu- 
seums. Let the treasury of the township or munici- 
pality receive its proper share of the increased 
revenue, which represents the larger share of the 
amount thus collected. Then let the treasurer of 
the State reimburse the college to the amount of 
the tax which the college has paid. This simply 
is spreading the burden resulting from freedom 
over the shoulders of the taxpayers of all Massa- 
chusetts rather than of Cambridge only; of all 
Connecticut rather than of New Haven only. For 
the last ten years this is the method which has 
been followed in the State of Maine. The law of 
that commonwealth is worth quoting : 

Any college in this State authorized under its charter 
to confer the degree of bachelor of arts or of bachelor of 
science, and having real estate liable to taxation, shall, 

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Financial Relations 

on tlie payment of such tax and proof of tlie same to the 
satisfaction of the Grovernor and Council, be reimbursed 
from the State treasury to the amount of the tax so paid ; 
provided, however, the aggregate amount so reimbursed 
to any college in any one year shall not exceed fifteen 
hundred dollars; and provided, further, that this claim 
for such reimbursement shall not apply to real estate 
hereafter bought by any such college. 

This method, however, has certain disadvantages. 
If this method were applied to Massachusetts, out 
of the three hundred and fifty- two towns in that 
State three hundred and forty-three would be 
taxed for the benefit of the nine which contain 
colleges and academies that are free from taxation. 
It may be doubted whether the representatives of 
the three hundred and forty- three towns would 
vote to increase their taxes for the sake of benefit- 
ing the nine towns. But, on the whole, the 
advantages of such a course outweigh the disad- 
vantages. The method tends to increase the pop- 
ularity of the college in its own city and town. 
Such a popularity is of the greatest benefit, and, 
as a whole, it must be acknowledged that the col- 
leges are not as well loved in the towns of their 
location as they are in many other towns. Such 
a method also might give to each college a certain 
freedom in asking for a share in the common 
municipal privileges which it does not now feel 
free to ask for. But the adoption of this method, 
or of any other of a constitutional or legal nature, 
rests with the people of each State as represented 
in its legislature. 

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Financial Relations 

This discussion may be summed up in six 
remarks : 

Pi. The close interpretation of the statute of taxa- 
tion as applied to literary and scientific institutions 
has not been the sentiment or practice of the vari- 
ous American courts. 

2. The American people as a body has sustained 
such a sentiment and has approved of such a prac- 
tice. For the American people, as a whole, love 
their colleges, and desire that these colleges shall 
be freed from many burdens which they them- 
selves, as individuals, are willing to bear. 

3. The ordinary American citizen cannot give 
much money to the direct support of the American 
college, but he can give somewhat to the support 
of the American college by the adoption of a gen- 
erous policy respecting the freedom of these col- 
leges from taxation. 

4. The American college exists for the benefit 
of the American people. Therefore the American 
people should not feel that any advantages offered 
to these colleges are to be used for selfish purposes 
or for narrow and limited aggrandizement. 

5. The American college professor, who repre- 
sents, after all, the best part of the American col- 
lege, is paid a small income from a small treasury, 
and he is himself giving back to the community 
what is manifoldly more precious than the money 
he receives. 

6. The desire of certain older communities to 
tax their colleges is not for them a pleasant con- 
trast to the willingness of new communities to tax 

17 257 



Financial Relations 

themselves for the support of their State universi- 
ties. Is it possible that Massachusetts desires to 
exact a few thousand dollars each year from its 
colleges when Michigan willingly gives hundreds 
of thousands to its university I \ 



258 



VII 

ADMINISTRATIVE AND SCHOLASTIC 
PROBLEMS OF THE TWEN- 
TIETH CENTURY 



VII 

ADMINISTRATIVE AND SCHOLASTIC 
PROBLEMS OF THE TWEN- 
TIETH CENTURY 

THE century now closing has made rich contri- 
butions to the science and the art of the 
higher and the lower education, as it has to the art 
and the science of every form of human endeavor. 
It has enlarged the property of the colleges of 
America from a very small sum to more than 
quarter a billion of dollars. It has increased the 
annual budget for public education until it amounts 
to two hundred millions. It has extended and 
enriched the course of study, and has also diversi- 
fied it to fit the needs of the individual student 
from the age of six to the age of twenty-six. It 
has uplifted, dignified, and humanized the whole 
system of education, primary, secondary, collegiate, 
graduate, and professional. These results are fixed, 
and for them gratitude is common and hearty. 

The century now closing is turning over to the 
century that is beginning questions which are as 
significant and as essential as the questions which 
already have been settled. The new questions 

261 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

grow out of the past, and they relate to the future. 
They are questions at once administrative and 
scholastic, new and old. Such, be it said, is the 
progress of humanity. Every problem solved is 
the origin of other problems to be solved. In this 
method lies the hope of the race. When men have 
no questions to ask, not only has the lip become 
paralyzed, but the brain has become atrophied. 

Of the many questions which the nineteenth 
century transmits to the twentieth, several seem 
to me of significant value. 

The first of these questions relates to uniting 
in the studies and the methods of the higher edu- 
cation the principle of unity and the principle of 
individuality. The college has developed in the 
last third of the nineteenth century the principle 
of individuality. It has developed this principle 
largely through the elective system of studies. It 
has allowed, if not commanded, the individual stu- 
dent to select those studies which he thinks are 
best fitted for his own peculiar needs. It has recog- 
nized that no two men are alike any more than two 
leaves of the same tree are alike, as Leibnitz pointed 
out long ago. It is affirmed that this unlikeness 
is best and most adequately ministered unto 
through different subjects of thought and of 
learning. It has seen that what is one student's 
meat may be another student's poison, or if not 
poison, it may be to the other student sawdust ; and 
what is to one student poison or sawdust may be 
to another student meat and drink. The college 
has not failed to recognize that what is food to a 

262 



of the Twentieth Century 

student in one period of his career may not be 
food to him at all in the other periods of his career. 
All this and much more has been worked out and 
put on the shelves of our intellectual storehouse. 

But the colleges have made but small use of the 
opposite principle, which is also one of the great 
results of the century, — namely, the principle of 
unity, — a principle which is not more true in the 
realm of nature than in the realm of mind. Man 
is ever the same man. The soul is ever the same 
soul. The mind that asks manifold questions in 
youth is the same mind that asks its less manifold, 
but hardly less important, questions of nature and 
humanity in its maturity. If every man is unlike 
every other man, it is also true that he is always 
unlike every other man; he maintains his personal 
identity. As matter is the same matter under 
many forms, so man is the same man under all 
the changes through which he passes and which 
work their works in and on him. 

Both the principle of unity and the principle of 
individuality have their special advantages and 
limitations. The principle of unity tends to 
become sameness, monotonousness. It lacks pic- 
turesqueness, as applied to human character. It 
exemplifies the prairie in human life. It stands 
for one wide and far-reaching level of uniformity. 
Man is the same man, noble, noble; mean, mean; 
great, always great ; and small, always small. One 
knows where to find him who embodies this prin- 
ciple ; one forecasts what answer he will give to 
every question; one anticipates what opinions he 

26} 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

will hold under certain conditions; and one can 
measure his convictions of the next week by his 
convictions of the last. 

But this principle of unity also possesses for 
one's self and for humanity at large many and 
fine advantages. Man is like the mountains, not 
like the weathercock which shows which way the 
wind blows. He is like the eternal hills, which 
determine which way the wind shall blow. He is 
firm and fixed. He represents the conservative 
element of human society. There is nothing un- 
certain or wavering about him. He knows what 
he knows; he believes what he believes; and he 
needs no one to convince him of his convictions. 
He is typed in the force of gravitation — an element 
at once fixed and not fixed, which moves through all 
things and guides them by unalterable laws. The 
principle of individuality, also, is beset by corre- 
sponding advantages and disadvantages. It gives 
variety to life. It is the mother of interest. It is 
both the cause and the result of development. It 
stands for life ; and life is never in general, but life 
is always in particular, and life is always full of 
fascination. It represents the progress of being, 
which is always in and through individuals. But 
individuality, be it said, tends to become eccen- 
tricity. If it grow into the graciousness of right- 
eousness and goodness and into the superlative 
excellence of beauty, it also grows into wickedness 
and into the pessimistic degradation of sin and of 
ugliness. 

In education, as in all life and nature, these two 
264 



of the Twentieth Century 

principles of unity and individuality are to be 
joined. The ocean is the same ocean, although 
the same tides never sweep over its beaches. The 
sun is the same sun, although not two risings or 
settings are identical. The world is the same 
world, although no two springtimes are alike in 
their sweet fragrance or in their mighty and silent 
growths. In the higher education the two prin- 
ciples are to be joined. The nineteenth century 
has given us the principle of individuality; the 
twentieth century is to associate this principle 
with the principle of unity as the nineteenth has 
not associated it. We are to learn that the boy is 
father to the man, and that the man is the son of 
the boy. We are to draw a straight line from the 
primary school to the professional. We are to 
strive to make character more consistent without 
making it less interesting, more solid without 
making it less picturesque, more conservative 
without causing it to become less progressive, 
more fixed without causing it to lose adaptive- 
ness. The man we take off the commencement 
platform we desire to be the same man whom, as 
a boy four years before, we sent to college ; only 
we wish him to be finer, nobler, greater. 

The union of unity and individuality as applied 
to the curriculum and to the students' use of the 
curriculum will tend to do away with that bane 
of our educational system, a Jiaphazardness in the 
choice of studies. This union will give directness 
in aim; and directness in aim will contribute to 
force in execution and administration; and force 

26^ 



Administratwe and Scholastic Problems 

thus used will add to cousistency and general 
worthiness. The studies of the freshman year 
will be chosen in the light of the needs of the 
senior year ; and both years will derive their pur- 
pose from what the man desires to know, to do, and 
to -be after his college career. This union will not 
simply give us studies which a man may make 
into a backbone, as it is usually called, — for a back- 
bone implies also other bones running at right 
angles to the chief one, — but this union will give 
us a whole system of studies, articulated each to 
all and all to each, and all going to make up a 
consistent and vigorous personality, filled with one 
spirit, guided by one purpose, moved with one will, 
and living one life. 

The twentieth century will also give us aid in 
determining the law of diminishing and increasing 
returns in studies. What this law is we have 
begun to learn from experimentation. We have 
learned that a language, be it ancient or modern, 
dead or alive, may continue to grow in its power 
over the student until he is possessed of the spirit 
of its literature, and of the people out of whom it 
grew and whom it in turn helped to create. The 
first three or four years in the study of Latin or 
Grreek are the least profitable. The fifth and sixth 
years are, and should be, the most valuable. In 
the first period the study of a language is good; 
and it is good chiefly as a training in the impor- 
tant element of discrimination; and it is worthy 
of studying even if one pursues it no longer or 
further. But when one has become in a degree 

266 



of the Twentieth Century 

the master of a language, as, for instance, of the 
Latin, he is prepared to become a sympathetic stu- 
dent of these peoples themselves, to know what 
they were, to understand the institutions in which 
their life was embodied, to think as they thought, 
to feel as they felt, to see out of their eyes, and to 
hear with their ears. He thus causes the life of 
this one nation — one of the four which have con- 
tributed most largely to our modern humanity — 
to become an integral part of his own life. 

But this study has its limitations. For the stu- 
dent may, after six years of reading and of re- 
flection upon the institutions of Rome, become 
conscious that he is not getting the benefit from 
these studies that once he received. The minute 
investigation may prove to be of comparative 
worthlessness. He has entered into the narrowing 
margin of profit. He gets less and less for a larger 
and larger expenditure. The same principle in its 
application of diminishing or increasing returns 
applies to mathematics or to the sciences or, in- 
deed, to any subject. The deductive reasoning of 
mathematics is less early reached in its fullness of 
view, in the case of most students, than is the in- 
ductive reasoning of chemistry and of the other 
physical sciences. 

In the case of all scientific subjects there comes 
a time when the power of observation as em- 
bodied in experiments, or the power of inference 
as trained by these experiments or as trained 
in mathematical reasoning, has reached its normal 
fullness. It is possible, of course, still to discipline 

267 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

the mental faculties chiefly concerned in mathe- 
matical or scientific reasoning, and the process 
might, apparently, go on forever; but the returns 
resulting from this expenditure greatly diminish. 
History is the one subject in which for most stu- 
dents the law of returns shows that the results are 
the richer the longer it is pursued. The primary 
studies in history are comparatively of small value. 
The later studies, touching the people or the race, 
become more valuable as the attention to its es- 
sential conditions and relations is the more minute. 

The question of the increasing and diminishing 
returns in studies becomes of special significance 
in the light of the results of a free elective system. 
The question goes out into the general and most 
serious problem of the educational value of differ- 
ent studies and of the relations of these studies to 
American character and life. Upon certain sides 
of the general problem we are possessed of some 
suggestive facts. 

Among the most significant of all the reports 
which -Harvard College makes is found in the few 
pages of apparently dull and useless tables which 
represent the various courses of study and the 
number of undergraduates who are pursuing them. 
Some of the most important of these facts are as 
follows. In the academic year of 1898-99 there 
were 1851 students in Harvard College. Each of 
these students was required to take from twelve 
to fifteen hours of recitations or lectures each 
week. The freedom of choice was practically ab- 
solute, with the exception of one or two courses 

268 



of the Twentieth Century 

for freshmen, and the field for its exercise was ex- 
ceedingly wide. Under these conditions, be it 
said, Harvard students chose courses as indicated 
in the following table : 

Subject. Seniors. Juniors. Bopho- Fresh- Specials. Total. 

mores, men. 

Semitic languages .. 39 19 25 4 7 85 

Egyptology 11 5 12 2 4 34 

Indo-Iranic languages .231 17 

Classical Philology . . 107 83 170 265 28 653 

English 498 604 726 601 209 2638 1 

Germanic languages . 69 94 177 300 41 681 

Eomance languages . . 108 130 271 358 71 944 

Comparative literature 1 1 

Slavic languages ... 2 2 

History 304 288 540 541 159 1832 

Economics 393 283 351 15 89 1131 

Philosophy 237 230 144 18 49 678 

Fine Arts 40 47 91 14 18 210 

Architecture .... 6 5 3 4 18 

Music ....... 17 18 9 8 2 54 

Mathematics .... 38 28 55 154 22 297 

Astronomy 50 32 17 3 6 108 

Engineering .... 27 28 27 18 2 102 

Military Science ... 32 40 44 10 1 127 

Physics 20 20 66 59 22 189 

Chemistry 75 118 124 107 16 440 

Botany 17 31 31 32 9 120 

Zoology 23 37 39 24 8 131 

Mineralogy 6 4 3 13 

Mining 11 2 

Anatomy 8 10 27 7 4 56 

Archaeology .... 20 6 8 2 36 

The essence of this table is that the subjects, ar- 
ranged in the order of their popularity, would begin 
with English, which would be followed, though 
remotely, by history, and then, with still greater 

1 Four hundred and twenty-one of this number were reqidred to 
take Freshmen English. Therefore 2217 represents the proper 
number for comparison under a free elective system. Certain stu- 
dents, too, though a smaller number than in the case of English, 
were required to take either elementary German or French. 

269 



Administrative and Scholastic ProUems 

gaps, would come economics, Romance languages, 
philosophy, Grermanic languages, classical phi- 
lology, chemistry, mathematics, fine arts, physics, 
and astronomy. 

Among the more significant elements are these : 
that out of 1851 men only 297 took mathematics, 
and out of a freshman class of 471 men, only 
154 chose this subject. The small number of men, 
also, who took the sciences is to be noted. Chem- 
istry and especially geology make a pretty good 
showing, but physics and botany and zoology are 
badly off. The greatest surprise of all, possibly, 
is the small number of men who take zoology. 
When one thinks of the Agassiz Museum, and 
of the vast resources both in teaching force and 
in collections for the study of life, one looks at 
the figures with a sense of surprise and of sorrow. 
But it is to be said that in each college in the 
United States the sciences are the least popular 
studies. Latin and Greek hold their own in the 
American college and represent possibly a larger 
number of students than one would in advance ex- 
pect. The sciences have not made those inroads 
into the classics which twenty-five years ago it was 
held by both the classicists and the scientists was 
inevitable. 

The value of this table is reinforced and con- 
firmed by a statement respecting the studies of 
a class recently graduating at Harvard, the class 
of 1897. The following table represents both the 
number of men and the percentage of the whole 
class who pursued each subject, the subjects being 

270 



of the Twentieth Century 

arranged in the order of their preference. The 
table is taken from a full report of the studies of 
the class, published in the "Harvard Graduates' 
Magazine." 

Number. Per cent. 

Total number in class 244 100 

History and Government 123 50 

Philosophy 122 50 

English 121 50 

Economics 114 47 

Fine Arts 72 30 

French 52 21 

Military Science 46 19 

Chemistry 44 18 

Semitic 43 18 

German 32 13 

Italian and Spanish 30 12 

Engineering 21 9 

Zoology 21 9 

Mathematics 15 6 

Classics 14 6 

Geology 14 6 

Botany 12 5 

Physics 11 5 

Mineralogy and Petrography .... 5 2 

Music 3 1 

Hygiene 2 1 

Archasology and Ethnology 2 1 

Slavic 2 1 

Germanic and Eomance Philology . . 1 0.4 

Indo-Iranic languages 

Arising out of these tables are two most impor- 
tant questions : First, "Why did the students elect 
studies as they did elect ? and second. Is it best for 
the men of all colleges to elect studies as the Har- 
vard men did elect % The first question is a ques- 
tion of interpretation as applied to the students of 
Harvard College, and the second question is a ques- 
tion of general educational policy. 

In answer to the first question respecting the 
reasons for Harvard men so largely electing studies 

271 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

in English, economics, and history, several things 
are to be said. 

These studies represent a popular practical de- 
mand. The relation between life and history, the 
relation between good English and professional suc- 
cess, is apparently far more intimate than the re- 
lation between Plato's Republic and life, or the 
relation between the dynamics of a rigid body or 
Galois's theory of equations and an election to the 
national House of Representatives. The college 
has become peculiarly sensitive to popular demands 
and popular movements — on the whole too sensi- 
tive. No sooner do we adopt, or think of adopting, 
certain colonial possessions, than the colleges offer 
courses in the government of their colonies by 
England, France, and Holland. The community 
demands that the college man shall know some- 
what of the problems which the community has 
to settle and of the life which the community 
has to live. To this demand the college student 
is inclined to yield. Therefore courses in eco- 
nomics, history, and English are the more pop- 
ular. 

These studies also represent a personal practical 
demand. The college man thinks of his life's work, 
and no sooner does he begin to think than he 
begins to prepare for that life's work. Some men 
believe that the more remote their college course 
from the nature of their life's work the more ade- 
quate, on the whole, is their preparation. The foun- 
dations for heavy structures are to be laid broad 
and deep, and the heavier the stru.ctures the broader 

272 



of the Twentieth Century 

and the deeper ai'e to be laid the foundations. It 
is, therefore, said that the man who is to become 
a doctor should study philosophy, psychology, and 
history, and that the man who is to become a lawyer 
should study mathematics, chemistry, and biology. 
A lawyer of the highest distinction, and serving 
in a most exacting capacity, wrote to me lately say- 
ing that if he were to advise a college student who 
proposed to become a lawyerwithrespect to his stud- 
ies, his counsel would be for him not to take consti- 
tutional history or economics or philosophy, but to 
take biology and physics— studies that were the 
most remote in content from his future work as a 
lawyer. But it is at once to be confessed that 
most college students are not inclined to lay foun- 
dations for their professional service upon very 
broad bases. They are inclined to begin their pro- 
fessional specialization early. One need spend only 
a few days in Cornell University to see that the 
professional spirit is one of the leading influences 
of that great university. The fact is that in most 
universities those who propose to become doctors 
take chemistry and biology and physics in the lat- 
ter part of their course ; those who propose to be- 
come ministers take philosophy and history and so- 
ciology ; and those who propose to become lawyers 
take constitutional history, economics, and inter- 
national law. Two-thirds of the graduates of most 
colleges become lawyers and business men. These 
studies, therefore, in English, economics, and his- 
tory, more intimately and directly associated with 
the work of the lawyer and of the merchant and the 
18 273 



Administraiwe and Scholastic Problems 

manufacturer than are the studies in classical 
philology, physics, and astronomy, are chosen. 

These studies also do not necessitate so abstract 
and exact thinking as mathematical and scientific 
studies. These subjects do allow thinking of an 
abstract and exact nature. The mind sees what 
the mind brings for seeing. Therefore the large 
and exact mind will bring large and exact relation- 
ships into English and history and economics — of 
course it will. It is simply ridiculous to suggest 
that it will not or does not. But I am also sure 
that the ordinary college student in history does 
not think so accurately or so strongly as does the 
ordinary college student in mathematics or physics. 
The great majority of the college, as also the great 
majority of the community, does not give itself to 
exact and abstract and abstruse reflection. The 
college community, therefore, chooses those studies 
which fall in with general intellectual habits and 
tendencies. 

It is to be said, moreover, that these studies repre- 
sent what may be called the culture side of life and 
not the side of discipline. Men in college are in- 
clined to believe, and of course with some degree 
of reason, that the disciplinary element of training 
has been furnished for them in the preparatory 
school, and that for them the college represents 
the general relations of enrichment. It is also evi- 
dent that English, history, economics, and philoso- 
phy represent culture to a degree which physics 
and mathematics and zoology do not. The sciences 
stand, in general, for training in method, and this 

274 



of the Twentieth Century 

method is, in general, the method of simple think- 
ing. If this be true, such subjects as literature 
and history and economics represent not so much 
a method as they represent a content; this con- 
tent results in the enrichment of the mind and the 
character of the student. 

The second question is the general question 
whether it is best for college men to choose studies 
in the proportion in which they are chosen. Be- 
fore answering it I wish to make a few provi- 
sional remarks. (1) It is best for college men, like 
men in every condition, to make their own great 
choices in life. The law of liberty is a very good 
law, although it carries along with itself very seri- 
ous perils. God sees fit to give men freedom of 
will, although knowing they will abuse this free- 
dom. College men may, and should, get all the 
counsel possible for the determination of their 
courses, but it is best for them ever and every- 
where to bear the responsibility of their own choos- 
ing. (2) All studies are good. No man can take 
up a study in college, however dull he may be, how- 
ever dull the teacher may be, however dull the study 
may be, without receiving some advantage. (3) 
Studies have different values for different men. 
One student gets an insight into life through phi- 
losophy. Another student gets an insight, equally 
fresh and fine, through mathematics. To another 
student philosophy is nonsense, and mathematics 
inscrutable. (4) Teachers, too, have different powers 
over different students. The teacher having tre- 
mendous influence over Mr. A. may have no influ- 

275 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

ence at all over Mr. B. Seldom does a very strong 
teacher have the same influence over two students. 

(5) In the conduct of a cou.rse of study, the teacher 
is a more important element than the course itself. 
Personality is more than knowledge, and person- 
ality is the chief element in the promotion of cul- 
ture and of discipline. One may change the words 
of Emerson and say, " I don't care what you teach. 
What you are is so much more than what you teach 
that I don't know the subject which you teach." 

(6) The value of the teacher to the student dif- 
fers in different subjects. The worth of the teacher 
to the student is greater in elementary Sanskrit 
than in elementary mathematics, in English com- 
position than in English history. (7) In teaching, 
the individuality of the student is to be considered 
by the teacher. He is to be able to call each stu- 
dent by name. He is never to teach masses. He 
is to pick his fruit by hand. The chief aid of 
pedagogy is to aid the teacher in ministering to the 
needs of the individual student. (8) In this present 
discussion the most important element, that of 
moral character, is purposely omitted. Moral char- 
acter is the most important. Of course it is more 
important to have pure hearts than clear heads, 
to practise the virtues than to know the verities, to 
be just than to be able to explain the ground of 
the theory of moral obligation. 

Now, reverting to our question. Is it for the 
advantage of the students of Harvard College to 
choose their studies as they do? Is it best for 
them, is it best for the students of all colleges, to 

276 



of the Twentieth Century 

choose the same studies and in the same propor- 
tion, or, what is more important still, is it best for 
the improvement of the American community and 
for the enrichment of American life 1 What is the 
supreme need of American society? The answer 
leaps to the pen or to the lip. It is the need of 
men who can think. To think, to judge, to weigh 
evidence, to reason and to infer, represent a com- 
mon and great need of the American community. 
The American community is, on the whole, honest, 
and the American community is, on the whole, in- 
telligent, but the American community cannot 
think. The American community has other needs, 
it is true. One may say it lacks culture and appre- 
ciation. One may also affirm that its honesty is 
none too honest, and that its intelligence could fit- 
tingly be broadened. But every political campaign 
proves that the chief need is the power to know 
that two plus two equal four — the power to reason. 
Therefore, in general, the answer to our question 
lies in the answer to yet another question as to 
whether the American college is making the thinker. 
Matthew Arnold, in his "Higher Schools and Univer- 
sities in Germany " (p. 155), says that the prime and 
direct aim of instruction is to enable every man " to 
know himself and the world." If by this phrase Mr. 
Arnold mean that the supreme purpose of education 
is to enable a man to think, to reason, to judge, the 
phrase is wisely made ; but if the remark be a ref- 
erence to the value of knowledge as such, it is a 
remnant of barren educational discussion. The 
thinker represents what both Plato and Aristotle 

277 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

make the supreme result of education. Aris- 
totle would apply this result rather to the individ- 
ual and Plato to the state, but the power to think 
is held by both the idealist and the peripatetic as 
the chief power in training. 

It is easy enough to divide studies into classes 
which represent nature, humanity, and those which 
concern space and time. Do all or any one of 
these studies create the thinker? If they do not, 
what do they create in the mind of man? 

What is the unique or special advantage which 
studies that relate to nature, the natural and physi- 
cal sciences, possess? The answer to be at once 
given is that they possess relations which train the 
power of observation. The physicist, the chemist, 
the biologist, the geologist, is primarily an observer. 
He is to see what is set before him', he is to see all 
that is set before him, and he is to see nothing that 
is not set before him. The remark which the great 
Agassiz made to his student, " Look at your fish ! 
Look at your fish ! Look at your fish ! " is still and 
ever significant. The eye is the chief external organ 
of the scientist. It is not, however, the only organ, 
and observation is not the only resultant of scien- 
tific training. Having seen, the scientific student is 
to compare, to infer, to conclude. He is to put his 
two and two together and to make them into four. 
He reaches the abstract principle through collecting 
specific observations. Scientific studies, therefore, 
are a training in observation and in reasoning. They 
do train the power of thinking, and they are pre- 
eminently fitted this power to train. 

278 



of the Twentieth Century 

It is also to be said that linguistic study is essen- 
tially and practically a scientific study. In lin- 
guistic study observation is the primary element. 
The student is to see what is before him, to see all 
that is before him, and to see nothing else. But 
having seen, the next step of the linguistic student 
is not the inductive one, which is the second step 
in the study of the sciences ; but the next step is a 
deductive one, in which he relates the special case 
under observation to a general law. It is therefore 
to be af&rmed that in at least one important respect 
linguistic study has a value identical with scien- 
tific study in the training of the powers of observa- 
tion. This training in observation is in essence the 
same as the training in discrimination, which is the 
result usually suggested as the chief result of lin- 
guistic discipline. 

Mathematical study is akin to scientific, and yet 
in many respects it is unlike. Mathematical study 
is the study of absolute truth. It is thinking 
God's thoughts, as science is the study of God's 
works. Mathematics leads the mind to reason 
as no other study does lead it. Mathematics is 
nothing but reasoning. It represents the putting 
of two and two together and of making them into 
four. It does not ask what either two stands for, 
but it is eager to get the two and two into right 
relationship. Yet, be it said, mathematics is a bad 
study to make one think as he is obliged to think 
in life itself. For in mathematics every element 
is fixed and exact. Nothing is uncertain. Two 
plus two always and everywhere equal four. But 

279 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

in life no element is fixed, no condition is exact, no 
state is certain. At every point uncertainty prevails. 
The mathematician is not, therefore, a good man 
for reasoning about the practical concerns of a 
very practical age. 

One among the many advantages derived from 
the study of economics receives a contrasted illus- 
tration in what I have just said respecting mathe- 
matics; for if there be any department in which 
conditions are unsettled and unknown, it is in the 
department of economics and social phenomena. 
There is no subject in which so many elements 
enter, and so many elements, too, the exact content 
of which it is so hard to determine. The investi- 
gator cannot be sure of all his facts, and cannot be 
sure also that he is rightly interpreting all condi- 
tions. Only Omniscience can know man or man's 
relations completely. Therefore it is plain that 
the study of economic phenomena contains rare 
and rich possibilities for developing thinkers, and 
thinkers, too, who are in touch with life. The study 
of history is quite unlike the study of political econ- 
omy, although the two subjects are often associ- 
ated in the college curriculum. Its facts are less 
uncertain, although they are uncertain enough. Its 
conditions are sufficiently obscure. History has to 
do with man as he has been and under diverse con- 
ditions. Its study lies in tracing the great law of 
cause and effect. When studied as distinct phe- 
nomena, history trains the power of memory, and 
when studied as related phenomena, as always it 
ought to be studied, it trains, of course, the element 

280 



of the Twentieth Century 

of reasoning. Historians are as good reasoners as 
are scientists, but their reasoning has none of the 
absoluteness and exactness of that of the scientist. 
The scientist is concerned primarily with method, 
and secondarily with content. The historian is, 
however, concerned primarily with content and 
only secondarily with method. But both are con- 
cerned with bringing forth a correct interpretation. 
What is known as English in the college course 
has at least three distinct relations — the philologi- 
cal, the literary or historical, and the creative. 
As philology, the study of English has the same 
value as any other philological study, as Latin or 
Grreek, possesses. This value is essentially the 
scientific value of exact observation. As an his- 
torical product, and as a literary condition and 
result, English opens to the student the great law 
of cause and effect, as does the study of history 
itself. It is also to be said that it opens the trea- 
sure-house of the choicest achievement of the great 
creative minds. Yet enrichment itself, it is ever 
to be affirmed, is not a discipline. A mind can be 
rich without being well trained, as a mind can be 
well trained without being rich. By means of 
writing, too, the value of English becomes of the 
highest, but the writing is ever to be of a character 
to demand and to train the power of thinking. Al- 
together too much of the writing at most colleges 
is of a purely descriptive or expository sort. Writ- 
ing of this sort has, of course, value. Much writing, 
too, done not only in the literary courses, but in 
other courses as well, consists in what are known as 

281 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

"theses." A thesis is made primarily by reading 
whatever has been written respecting the subject of 
the thesis, and in pursuing investigations respect- 
ing the subject. Of course thought is required in 
this investigation and writing, but the demands 
made upon one's thinking power in preparing such 
theses is not usually so great as the demands made 
upon one's industry and patience. The colleges are 
defective in not requiring a sufficient amount of 
purely argumentative composition. The making 
of an argument by the student, and the criticism of 
the argument thus made by the teacher, represents 
one of the most effective forms of intellectual train- 
ing. President Woolsey gave noble service to the 
individual students of Yale College for twenty-five 
years, but no service is remembered with heartier 
gratitude than the conferences which he held with 
students over their writing on important themes. 

Now, one thing is to be said about these human 
studies of economics, history, and English, and that 
is that one can with ease and from a superficial 
understanding of these subjects receive advantages. 
One can taste of these subjects and get satisfaction. 
Such superficial understanding is superficial; it 
has all the merits and demerits of superficiality; 
but one cannot so easily be superficial in a study 
such as rnathematics or physics with any corre- 
sponding advantage as he can in the case of the 
studies of history and economics and English. In 
mathematical and physical studies progress is 
stopped at any point, unless one has taken practi- 
cally all the steps that lead up to that one point. 

282 



of the Twentieth Century 

One cannot master the fourth book of Euclid with- 
out having mastered the third, and he cannot under- 
stand the third without knowing both the first and 
the second. But one can receive advantage from 
trying to understand the constitutional struggle 
under George III without thoroughly understand- 
ing the struggle under James I, and one can get 
great good from studying the Cromwellian period 
without knowing the Elizabethan. It may there- 
fore be safely said that slight study and slight 
understanding of certain studies may bring a 
much richer result than a slight study and under- 
standing of other subjects. History, economics, 
and English rather tempt one to superficiality than 
do physics and the calculus. Here is, be it said, 
emphasized the need of good teaching in the pres- 
entation of these subjects which may be lightly 
treated. The teacher is commissioned to oblige 
the student to get many advantages from those 
studies from which he might be content with re- 
ceiving small advantages. 

Philosophy was formerly regarded as the crown 
of the educational curriculum. It is the study of 
man himself. It is the most regenerative of the 
mind of man. It is the most awakening of all 
studies. Many a student does not find himself until 
he reaches philosophy. It is, to use the Socratic 
phrase, the midwife of one's second or intellectual 
birth. It touches upon all elements of being which 
are present in all other studies. It demands think- 
ing as hard as mathematics demands. Its content, 
too, has an interest to many minds which mathe- 

283 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

matics does not, and cannot, arouse. It requires an 
interpretation of the phenomena of life, as large as 
that required in history. It also requires observa- 
tion, more exact and more difficult than is required 
in the physical sciences. It invites, too, argumen- 
tation of all sorts. 

The results of this somewhat wide survey of the 
special value of different courses of study are now 
evident. Harvard College, like every American 
college, is graduating men of richer attainments 
than the college of the earlier time. The graduate 
approaches nearer the type of the gentleman of 
culture. Knowledge is more affluent, appreciation 
of the best more adequate and more common. In- 
sight has gained in frequency and in power. The 
force for entering into executive conditions and of 
showing one's self a master in doing things has 
vastly increased. The American college is training 
men into gentlemen as does the English univer- 
sity. But it must be said that the studies which 
are the most popular at many colleges do not train 
men in the power of thinking, as they do train men 
in the power of knowing and of appreciating. The 
college is making scholars rather than thinkers. 
It is good to make a scholar ; it is better to make 
a thinker. American life needs scholars much; 
American life needs thinkers more. 

To discuss the methods for the promotion of the 
power of thinking in the American college would 
lead one too far afield. Two things at least may be 
said : first, far greater care should be exercised in 
the choice of teachers in order to secure those who 

284 



of the Twentieth Centurp 

are able to train thinkers; and secondly, proper 
urging should be given to men, on the part of ad- 
visers and counselors, to take severer and more 
thought-provoking courses. 

A third question which is transferred to the 
next age relates to the uniting of a wider inclu- 
siveness of students of ordinary abilities with the 
giving of special training to the ablest students. 
A college education should become yet more com- 
mon for common men ; and also a college education 
should become yet more precious for the best men. 
We are now educating more than one man to every 
one thousand of the population — a larger propor- 
tion than ever obtained in this country or than now 
obtains in any other country of the world. But 
this relative superiority should be still further en- 
hanced. Every man and every woman should re- 
ceive just as high and rich an education as possible. 
Education should become common, indeed ; but the 
peril is that in making education common we are 
neglecting the uncommon man. The need of the 
uncommon man is great, very great. The Ameri- 
can people is peculiarly volatile. Its emotions are 
easily excited. It can be stampeded with an ease 
which is at once a joy and a despair. The impor- 
tance, therefore, of leadership is of the utmost 
urgency in the conduct of American aifairs. Its 
importance cannot be overstated. The uncommon 
man who is poor in purse must, at all events, be 
educated; and the uncommon man who is rich 
should not be deterred by any cause from giving 
himself a superlative discipline and training for 

285 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

life's supreme service as well as for life's slightest 
duties. Let the college be great in numbers, so 
many are the common fellows who are flocking to 
it. Let the college also be great because the college 
is the creator and the nurse of great men for great 
affairs. 

These two conditions have a close relation to 
each other. Some men indicate their ability early 
in life, and we know as they pass into their teens 
that they are to become highly useful members of 
society. Gladstone, every one in his undergraduate 
days at Oxford knew, was to become a great man ; 
but whether he would show his greatness as a 
bishop or an archbishop or as a prime minister no 
one dared to prophesy. And Grladstone in his last 
years wrote an article on Arthur Hallam, indicating 
that Hallam was a man about whom prophecies of 
the highest eminence clustered. But other men do 
not show signs of promise early. They are, like 
Walter Scott and Francis Maitland Balfour, the 
biologist, backward boys. Their development is 
slow. From the multitude of ordinary men who 
come up to the college we shall get a few men of 
extraordinary power as manifested in life's career. 
It is, therefore, well to educate all men for the en- 
richment of American life and for the elevation of 
the type of American character. It is also worth 
while to educate all men for the sake of discovering 
the worthiest men in the general multitude. 

The education for leadership has a special rela- 
tion to one of the later developments of the higher 
education. The graduate school is the chief edu- 

286 



of the Twentieth Century 

cational development of an institutional form in 
the last twenty-live years. The larger part of its 
students have become teachers. Of the twenty-six 
men who took the degree of doctor of philosophy 
at Harvard College at the commencement of 1898, 
twenty-one at once entered the profession of teach- 
ing. This result is natural, and is also to be 
commended. In the new century, however, the 
graduate school should be a school not alone for 
teachers, but for men of all educational sorts and 
all professional conditions. To it should come, 
and I believe to it will come, men who propose to 
become doctors, lawyers, clergymen, not to secure 
professional training, but to secure a richer and 
finer training before entering upon their profes- 
sional disciplines. To it the ordinary student will 
not come ; but the men who have means and leisure 
and ability should come in increasing numbers. 

Because, therefore, of the length and breadth of 
the field of learning, and because of the high devel- 
opment which certain parts of this field are receiv- 
ing, the next century should be prepared, more than 
has been the present century, to adopt and to use 
the greatest variety of educational tools — the lin- 
guistic tool, the scientific tool, the historical tool, 
the philosophical tool, the sociological tool. Each 
has special and peculiar values. The linguistic 
and the mathematical tools are the oldest, and 
men have learned how to use them well. They 
carve and cut, they form and shape and smooth, 
the human mind more quickly and gracefully, be- 
cause of their centuries of use. The scientific tool 

287 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

the educator has not yet learned to use with any 
great efficiency. In the next age he will acquire 
the desired dexterity. 

To unite vitality in the teacher with expert 
knowledge is another problem which the age just 
closing carries over into the new. Vitality is the 
content of a full and vigorous personality. To 
overestimate its importance to the teacher, or to 
any one whose relations are with men, is impossible. 
Ifc is life — life fullest, largest, most living. It is 
health — health which is healthy and healthful. It 
is largeness of faculty and the proper action of 
function. It is the surplus of every sort. It is 
force. In its origin it is constitutional, belonging 
to the whole personality. In its sense of continu- 
ance and enlargement its nourishment is drawn 
from all that can minister to the individual welfare. 
In its results it is, of course, rich and splendid. 
Without it, no one dealing with men can hope for 
the noblest results. With it, whatever else a man 
may lack, he may be assured that he will secure 
not unworthy effects. It is that quality which, of 
all our earlier authors, was supremely possessed 
by the great Sir Walter; and among all living 
authors it is the quality which makes Kipling ad- 
mirable, and which constitutes no small share of 
his moving force. To his task the teacher must 
bear this great quality of life ; and from him his 
task must not take it away. For, be it said, the 
teacher is in peril lest his task do take away his 
life. That dull and tired eye is not an uncommon 
characteristic of the veteran teacher. It means 

288 



of the Twentieth Century 

that the peril of losing vitality has actually mate- 
rialized. That faithfulness which is as long as the 
school year and as constant as the recitations, the 
never-ceasing draft of question and answer, sending 
life from heart to head and from head to heart, the 
anxiety for the indifferent or for the evil — these, 
and all such conditions, draw from the teacher his 
best and his fullest power. The teacher must be 
vital. School boards and school trustees are wise 
in judgment and sound in administration when they 
demand a living teacher. But school boards and 
school trustees are too often not wise in judgment 
in allowing the life of the teacher to be sapped and 
sucked. 

But expert knowledge is also required; and ex- 
pert knowledge is narrower by far, of course, than 
the region that vitality covers. Expert knowledge 
belongs to the intellect. But we know too well that 
the student becoming a teacher may know his sub- 
ject largely, thoroughly, adequately. Has he not 
spent his four years in Glermany and taken his 
doctor's degree magna cum f Has he not surveyed 
the field and written his dissertation on one small 
corner of the wide domain? The man of know- 
ledge, large and exact, is constantly sought for. 
This equipment has been secured through years 
of general and special study. But the price so 
often paid for this fine and rich equipment has 
not found its chief element of expense in time or 
money, but in life. As the intellect of the stu- 
dent has become enlarged and enriched and trained, 
the vitality of the student has become drained, 
19 289 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

depleted, and impaired. How many instances there 
are of this sort is known to all who have followed 
American lads from the age of fifteen to the age of 
thirty. Of course there are many instances of the 
opposite class We know men whose intellects are 
trained and enlarged and enriched, and whose per- 
sonality is still strong and noble. The elder Agassiz 
is, of course, a trite example ; but also every college 
can furnish examples of such a worthy union. 
The problem of the new century will be to make 
the condition of vitality in the teacher not only 
consistent with but promotive of power of the in- 
tellect, and to make large intellectual resources the 
mighty minister to a vital personality. 

Akin to this question, and yet in certain re- 
spects distinct from it, is the question of uniting 
in the same personality culture and power. Cul- 
ture is primarily a function of the intellect. Power 
is primarily a function of the will. The man of cul- 
ture knows ; the man of power does. The man of 
culture appreciates; the man of power executes. 
The man of culture gathers up the treasures of many 
lives, ages, conditions ; the man of power uses every 
fact as a tool for securing results. The man of cul- 
ture is good ; the man of power is good for some- 
thing. The man of culture is in peril of selfishness ; 
the man of power is in peril of rashness. The man of 
culture is in peril of sitting by the side of the ocean 
of life, careless of or indifferent to the lives that 
are offering themselves to its dangers, but appreci- 
ative of its grandeur and sublimity; the man of 
power is in peril of rushing into the tumultuous 

290 



of the Twentieth Century 

waves to rescue something, whether it be a log or 
a wrecked sailor or a bottle — he hardly knows what. 
The old college did not make the man of culture, 
but it did make the man of power. The new col- 
lege is doing somewhat to make the man of culture. 
The new college is also doing somewhat to make 
the man of power. In the new century the college 
will exalt each purpose and will also unite them. 
The man of the finest culture will be also the man 
of the greatest power ; and the man of the greatest 
power will be the man of the finest culture. 

These two purposes of culture and power are 
somewhat embodied in the two special schools of 
the higher education. It is a notorious fact that 
the modern scientific school, called by various 
names, such as technical, polytechnic, technologi- 
cal, does not train gentlemen of culture. It makes 
good engineers, chemists, electricians. It does 
not make men of learning. The college does not 
make engineers or chemists or electricians, but 
it does endeavor to make men of liberal learn- 
ing. The union of these two sides of our educa- 
tional course would be exceedingly advantageous. 
Let the scientific school make the technical scholar ; 
and, in making him such, let it also make the gen- 
tleman of culture. Let the college, in making the 
man of culture, make also the engineer or the 
chemist or the electrician. In a word, let every 
scientific school be a part of a college ; and yet by 
no means should every college have in its asso- 
ciation a scientific school, any more than every 
college should be connected with a theological 

291 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

seminary. Let the scientific school be regarded as 
a professional school coordinated with the school 
of law or the school of medicine, and not as coordi- 
nate with the undergraduate college. 

There is still another, the sixth, question which 
the nineteenth century hands over to the twentieth. 
It is the central and fundamental question of the 
integrity of the college. The college is beset with 
foes on its rear and on its front. The college is 
between the millstones. The foe on the rear is the 
fitting-school. The foe on the front is the profes- 
sional school. The antagonist on the rear is an 
antagonist not because of its desire, but by reason 
of the conditions of the college. For the college 
has from time to time increased the requirements 
for admission to its freshman class from two to 
three years, and from three to four years, so that 
the student is tempted to jump over the college 
directly from the academy to the professional 
school. To-day, too, one sees the formation of a 
tendency for the academy to do the work of the 
freshman year. In a recent letter to me, Principal 
Amen of Phillips Exeter Academy says : 

I believe that a few fitting-schools will soon be able to 
do the work of the freshman year quite as well and safely 
as it can be done in the largest colleges. It seems to me 
it would be unfortunate to do away with the freshman 
year in the smaller colleges. Many Harvard and Yale 
freshmen would, in my judgment, be better off in some 
of the secondary schools than in college. 

We welcome the movement at Cambridge for a three 
years' course as a happy solution of our special problem. 

292 



of the Twentieth Century 

If the requirements there for a degree can in any way 
be lessened by one or two courses, we can save many 
students a year in their college education. Something 
should be done to enable students to reach the profes- 
sional schools earlier. 

On the other side, the professional school is un- 
wittingly tending to render the college impossible. 
The college has surrendered to the professional 
school in a degree through allowing courses in the 
professional school, in certain instances, to count 
also toward its own first degree. The college is 
thus in peril of losing its first year and also its 
last. The academy is willing, and eager, to do the 
first year's work. The professional school is willing 
to do the senior year's work. The college, on the 
whole, seems to be quite willing for the profes- 
sional school to do at least a part of the senior 
year's work, as it is also manifesting no special 
unwillingness for the academy to do the freshman 
year's work. We, therefore, are left with a college 
not of three years, but only of two ! Let it not be 
inferred that this condition is not a serious one; 
for signs of the movement do warrant the appli- 
cation of the word " serious" to its condition. 

And yet it is easy to suggest several considera- 
tions which favor the shortening of the college 
course to two years. Among them are : 

1. The better differentiation of American educa- 
tion. Education may be said to cover three fields : 
first, the field of facts, in which observation is the 
chief intellectual faculty ; second, the field of rela- 
tions, in which reasoning is the chief intellectual fac- 

293 



Administrative and ScJjolastic Problems 

ulty ; and third, the field of professional knowledge, 
in which the education of the volitional faculty of 
application is the chief, though not the only, power. 
Through putting the freshman and sophomore 
years into the fitting-school that part of education 
which demands the faculty of observation becomes 
a unit. That portion is now dual, part being in 
the fitting-school and part in the college. Let the 
fitting-school stand for observation, and cover five 
or six years, as may be proper; let the college 
stand for the sense of relations, and cover two years 
or more ; and let the professional school stand for 
the direct preparation for professional service. 

2. A second advantage lies in a large economy 
in money and in time. Education as given by the 
college is more costly than education as given by 
the academy. All the elements of expense are 
placed on a higher basis in the college. Labora- 
tories are more extensive. Books are more nu- 
merous. The larger relations of studies are more 
constant. The general scale of expenses among 
college men is higher than it is among prepara- 
tory-school men. I think, also, there would be 
some saving in time. Freshmen in college do not, 
on the whole, work so hard as seniors in the fitting- 
school. I think, also, that sophomores in the col- 
lege have not the reputation of being so laborious 
as are seniors in the fitting-school. A man, too, 
needs adjustment to his environment to get the 
best intellectual work out of himself. One, there- 
fore, who has been three or four years in a fitting- 
school can spend one or two years more with less 

294 



of the Twentieth Century 

expenditure of mental force and in the securing of 
larger results, than he would be obliged to make 
when transferred to the new environment of col- 
lege life. College life is dissipating of time. Pre- 
paratory-school life promotes concentration of 
interest. 

3. A third advantage of putting the first two 
years of the college course into the fitting-school 
is found in the fact that the ethical and intellec- 
tual demands for supervision in the first two years 
of the college course are better met by the fit- 
ting-school than by the college. Many freshmen 
and sophomores have not the ability to care 
for themselves. They do need a parent. The col- 
lege cannot stand in loco parentis. The college 
cannot know the freshman's down-sittings and up- 
risings, his goings out and his comings in. The 
college must leave him to himself. The best col- 
lege traditions and conditions demand that the 
freshman and the sophomore be left to himself. 
To leave him to himself is, of course, in a sense, 
the application of the divine method in leaving 
men to themselves; but the college method, like 
the divine, is pretty costly to character. Too many 
men in the earlier part of their college career go to 
the bad. In the last two years they usually re- 
cover themselves and go to the good, and the better, 
and the best. Seldom does one find a college man 
a permanent moral bankrupt. Of course, under 
any method, some men will go into moral insol- 
vency, but this transfer of the first two years of 
the college course, which are the most perilous 

295 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

years, to the academy, allows and demands that 
supervision be given to the man. For this super- 
vision the academy stands. The man is saved. 

4. It should also be said that these two years 
would be sufficient for the college to give to each 
student what may be called "touch," the college 
influence, which should rest, and should rest per- 
manently, upon every man who has been to col- 
lege. Some men do not get this touch even in four 
years ; others get it even in one year. This touch 
it is difficult to describe, although it is easy to per- 
ceive. It means that a new and powerful influence 
has come into the man's life. His ideals have been 
elevated, his manners refined, his bearing made 
more gentlemanly, his natural relationships have 
become richer; not only is his power to think 
increased, but his power to feel is augmented. It 
is this result which is secured by most colleges 
over most students in the last two years of the 
course. For securing this result the first two 
years of the college may be necessary in at least 
some form, but it is in the last two years that the 
results themselves are secured and made apparent. 
Two years is a sufficient time for the promotion 
of those friendships among students which repre- 
sent one of the most important elements of a col- 
lege, and it is also a sufficient time for a teacher of 
power to do a great work for those students who 
gather in his class-room. 

These reasons do have value in favor of a re- 
casting of our whole educational course ; for it is 
no less true now than ever that the wise man is 

296 



of the Twentieth Century 

not so wedded or welded to the old methods which 
have proven beneficial as to be unwilling to sub- 
stitute for them new methods which may be su- 
perior. But I do venture to say that the American 
people are not willing to forego the annual con- 
tribution to its best forces of thousands of men and 
women who have simply and nobly been trained in 
the colleges to see straight, to think clearly, to love 
the good, to choose the right, and to delight in the 
beautiful. The American people are not prepared 
to give up one iota of this general worth for the 
sake of a professional training a bit more efficient 
or for a professional knowledge a bit wider or more 
exact. To make this adjustment the new century 
is called into service. The new century will dis- 
cover that this adjustment is to be made, not so 
much in the professional school or in the academy 
or in the college, but in the grammar and the pri- 
mary schools. In the grammar and the primary 
schools time is to be saved, better methods are to 
be adopted, and better teachers are to be secured. 
A seventh question which the nineteenth trans- 
mits to the twentieth century relates to the better 
training of candidates for the law and for medicine. 
In the United States are 67 law schools, having 8000 
students ; 143 medical schools, having also 8000 stu- 
dents ; and 159 theological schools, having 22,000 
students. The conditions for admission to these 
schools vary from that order of attainment repre- 
sented in high-school education to that represented 
in a college degree. About one-half of the students 
admitted to schools of theology have had a college 

297 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

training. About one-fifth of those admitted to 
schools of law have had a college training. But 
the percentage of those admitted to schools of 
medicine who have had a college training is much 
smaller — so small that it is difficult to make an 
exact estimate. It probably does not exceed seven 
per cent. 

These facts are of value in themselves, but they 
are of greater value in indicating the kind of law- 
yers, doctors, and ministers the American profes- 
sional schools are turning out into American life. 
For that degree of preparation that one has on 
entering a professional school represents the charac- 
ter of the work he will do in that school ; and both 
the preparation for professional studies and the 
professional studies themselves are a prophecy of 
the kind of men who are entering into the ser- 
vice of the community. For one cannot expect 
to secure lawyers clear in vision, profound in re- 
search, having a comprehensive grasp of principles, 
and a power to apply these principles wisely, unless 
those who enter the law schools are themselves 
already well trained. One cannot, too, expect to 
secure physicians wise and comprehensive in diag- 
nosis, keen to discriminate, able to weigh evidence 
and to relate every fact to every other fact, unless 
the students who enter the medical college are them- 
selves well trained. It is also just as unreason- 
able to expect to secure clergymen broad-minded, 
possessed of intellectual sympathy with all classes 
and conditions of men, acquainted with the noblest 
results of humanity's work as embodied in litera- 

298 



of the Twentieth Centurp 

ture, able to interpret and to apply truth, able also 
to make the best use of the great art of persuasive 
speech and writing, unless the same men, when they 
enter the school of theology, are liberally educated. 
In professional studies the beginning determines 
the end, and the end also determines the means and 
the method. The maxim is true — maintained by 
broad experience — that " he who is not a good law- 
yer when he comes to the bar will seldom be a good 
one afterward." The maxim, indeed, may be made 
broader : that he who is not a good student when he 
enters the professional school will not be a good 
one when he leaves it, and if he be not a good stu- 
dent when he leaves the professional school, he will 
not be a good doctor or lawyer or minister when he 
begins his professional career. 

The movement, therefore, toward the improve- 
ment of the professional education in the United 
States is one of very great significance. It is of 
the gravest and happiest importance to American 
society. I may say now as well as at any time that 
this movement is at the present moment rather 
confined to legal and medical education than to the 
clerical. For the simple truth is, and be it said 
with regret, that clerical education has not in the 
last decade been manifesting any degree of im- 
provement in certain important relations. On the 
whole, when one estimates the value of the clerical 
training received by the graduates of the schools 
of theology, one finds himself obliged to confess 
that deterioration has been the result. Into our 
better schools of theology of certain churches fewer 

299 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

men possessed of a liberal education are now en- 
tering than did enter a few years ago. The reason 
of this fact is that the opening of the new territory 
west of the Mississippi had made so great demand 
for ministers that theological seminaries were in- 
clined to receive into their membership students 
who were not willing to spend the time sufficient to 
give themselves a college education. This demand 
is now far less urgent than it has been, and we 
can reasonably anticipate that the improvement 
which has already taken place, and which even now 
is becoming forceful in the preparation for other 
professions, will soon affect the schools of theology. 
Already signs appear that these schools are becom- 
ing impressed by the call for the improvement of 
the training which they give. 

In this improvement the profession of the law still 
lags behind the profession of medicine. In a sense, 
the preparation for making lawyers is now in the 
same state in which the training of physicians was 
two score of years ago. In 1854 the American Medi- 
cal Association adopted resolutions " cordially ap- 
proving of the establishment of private schools to 
meet the increased desire on the part of a respec- 
table number of medical students for a higher grade 
of professional education than can usually be ac- 
quired by reading medicine under the direction of 
a single instructor."^ For in the preparation of stu- 
dents for the practice of law private reading is still 
continued, and is, on the whole, the more popular 

1 Report of the Commissioner of Education, 1889-90, Vol. II, 
p. 895. 

300 



of the Twentieth Century 

method, although its popularity is rapidly declining. 
It is seldom, however, that a man now enters the 
medical profession who has not been trained in a 
medical school. Most States also have examining 
or licensing boards, to whom any one who wishes 
to practise the healing art must submit evidence of 
his fitness and receive permission from that board 
in order to practice. Although certain States are 
quite as strict in respect to the granting of licen- 
sures to lawyers as to physicians, yet other States 
are notoriously lax. The following incident is 
illustrative. It is told by a professor in the Uni- 
versity of Missouri. " There was an old negro 
preacher in St. Louis who conceived the idea that 
if he were only able to hold himself out as a lawyer 
as well as a preacher he would do a flourishing 
trade among his flock. He applied for admission 
in St. Louis and was examined in open court. He 
had spelled his way through a few hundred pages 
of Blackstone, of some obsolete law dictionary, and 
the statutes of the State. Without an idea of any 
single sentence he had read, his examination was, 
of course, a comedy of errors, but though rejected, 
he was not dismayed. In a few weeks he turned 
up again, the happy possessor of a certificate of 
admission to the circuit court in one of the interior 
counties, and thus entitled to be enrolled in any and 
every other court in the State. The first client he 
obtained was a poor negro charged with murder. 
Though the prisoner was afterward found to have 
acted under circumstances of justifiable self-defense, 
the management of the case resulted in a verdict 

301 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

of murder in the first degree and sentence of death. 
Then the poor prisoner became frightened and re- 
tained a lawyer. It was a rather difficult case to 
appeal ; there were no points reserved, there were 
no errors which could be taken advantage of, and 
the only possible chance was to ask for a new trial 
on the ground of the ignorance, imbecility, and in- 
competency of the attorney." ^ 

But there are certain practical reasons which may 
be urged to prove that those who enter schools for 
the training of lawyers and of doctors should have 
received a liberal education. 

The first reason which I suggest relates to the 
importance of the profession of the law to Ameri- 
can life. The legal profession is a conservative 
element in a society essentially progressive and 
radical. The law, common and statute, represents 
more adequately than any other condition the 
struggles of humanity in its endeavors to lift itself 
up from an animal to an intellectual level. The 
law embodies the methods which man has found 
to be of value in securing and holding the rights 
of society and of person. It represents, also, the 
results which have followed from the use of these 
methods. Trivial as many statutes are, temporary 
as certain laws must be, unworthy as much of our 
law-making is, yet the great body of the common 
law and the great body of the statute law are the 
deposit of the best living of humanity. It bears 
to humanity in its intellectual conditions a relation 

1 Keport of the Commissioner of Public Education, 1893-94, Vol. 
I, p. 995. 

302 



of the Twentieth Century 

similar to that which, the cathedral bore to society 
in the ecclesiastical civilization of the middle ages. 
The law, more than any other resultant, represents 
the sum and substance of humanity's struggles and 
attainments. 

Therefore it is of extreme importance that the 
courts which interpret such a body of jurisprudence 
should be wise and learned as well as honest. 
Therefore it is also of extreme importance that 
those who apply these laws to present conditions 
should be able, wise, intelligent, and well trained, 
as well as faithful in all intellectual and human re- 
lations. The law without the lawyer is simply the 
skeleton without life, an outline of thought with- 
out content, a method of using force without the 
force itself. "Without the lawyer the law would 
have slight or no value to humanity. It is, there- 
fore, of the very first importance that the lawyer 
himself should be a man of large and liberal and 
noble training. 

Akin to this condition, as an element in the im- 
portance of the profession of the law to the Ameri- 
can people, is another element : it is the importance 
of justice to the American nation. It is expressing 
a very sad but at the same time a very patent fact 
to say that in many instances the law is not an in- 
strument for securing justice. This proposition is 
more evident to those who deal with the law than 
to those who are not immediately and constantly 
concerned with the administration of law. Those 
who desire to obtain or to maintain their rights 
often, and justly, hesitate to submit their claims to 

303 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

the expense and the doubts that belong to the 
methods and results of the courts. In an address 
made before the American Bar Association in 1894 
Frank C. Smith of New York said: "Of the 
29,942 cases decided, I ascertained that 14,447, or 
forty-eight per cent., were upon points of proce- 
dure or other matters not involving the merits of 
the controversy." Mr. Smith further says : "It is 
essential that the bar shall know how to employ 
the rules of legal procedure so as to most com- 
pletely and surely serve principle. But so far has 
the profession fallen from this ideal that, judged 
by the results of its service in actual litigation, it 
is to-day a monstrous charlatan. What would be 
said of a trade or craft against which it could be 
proven that in an average of nearly fifty per cent, 
of the attempts it made to serve its patrons it 
failed to secure just results because its craftsmen 
did not understand how to use its machinery, or, 
understanding this, failed to employ it so as to 
attain the end promised when it was trusted to do 
the service I Such a trade could not retain public 
respect and confidence an hour after its inefficiency 
was known. No more can one of the learned pro- 
fessions. Yet this is the exact condition of the 
practice of law in this country to-day." ^ 

The simple truth is that the profession of the law 
is not an instrument of justice in any such degree 
as the American people have a right to demand 
of it. 

1 Report of the Commissioner of Education, 1893-94, Vol. I, pp. 
996, 997. 

304 



of the Twentieth Centtiry 

The importance of the medical profession to the 
life of the American people may likewise be made 
the basis of a statement to prove that doctors 
should also have a liberal education before they 
enter into the pursuit of their professional educa- 
tion. It goes without saying that the medical pro- 
fession is important not only to the individual life 
but also to the life of the whole community. The 
place occupied by the doctor has greatly changed 
and enlarged in the course of the last generation. 
The doctor has become a public servant, as he was 
before a servant of the individual. The doctor is 
now set not simply to cure the ills of one member 
of the human family, but he is also set to keep all 
men from being sick. He is a trustee for the health 
of the community. He has become the apostle 
of health and healthfulness. He is an unofficial 
member of an unofficial board of health in every 
community, and in not a few communities he is a 
member of a properly constituted board of health. 
The importance of his profession to the community 
is made still more evident by the increasing intri- 
cacy and complexity of modern life. A complex 
civilization creates diseases from which a simple 
community is free. The crowding of great popu- 
lations promotes unhealthful conditions. The pres- 
ence of disease becomes more perilous as the people 
become more compact. The discoveries made in 
materia medica in the last decade have increased 
the duties which the doctor owes to himself and 
to the community. The discoveries in the art 
of surgery render operations now common and 
20 305 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

commonplace whicli a short time ago were regarded 
as either unique or as absolutely impossible. These 
changes have put upon every physician the obli- 
gation of being broad-minded and exact in obser- 
vation and inference. The age of the specialist 
has come. Every doctor in ordinary practice must, 
in a sense, be a union of all the specialists. So 
wide a range of functions, each of which is of pecu- 
liar importance, — as important at times as is human 
life itself, — makes evident the proposition that the 
physician should have the most liberal, the most 
profound, and the most disciplinary of trainings 
before he enters into his professional studies. 

A further reason for giving our students a 
thorough training before entering into the profes- 
sional studies of the law or medicine lies in the 
scholastic training which similar students in France 
and Germany are obliged to obtain. In France 
the candidate for admission to the medical schools 
must have secured the degree of bachelor of arts 
or of bachelor of science. In Germany he must 
have completed the course in the gymnasium, which 
represents a training certainly equivalent to that 
obtained in the first half of the course in the better 
A.merican colleges. In order to enter into the prac- 
tice of law, in most Continental countries, a man 
must be a graduate of the department of law in the 
university. In order to enter into the department of 
law in the university he must be a graduate of the 
gymnasium, that itself prepares for the university. 
These conditions apply in particular to Germany, 
Austria, and Switzerland. In France, Italy, Spain, 

306 



of the Twentieth Centti^ry 

Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and 
Russia, the course preparatory to the study of law 
embraces the ancient languages, the higher mathe- 
matics, and natural sciences, in addition to history 
— a course that is probably not of an educational 
value equal to that given in the best American 
colleges, but that is probably equivalent to that 
embraced in the first two years of the college. 
In England the course of study is not so ex- 
tended. The English language, the Latin language, 
a knowledge of some other language, — either Grreek, 
French, G-erman, or Italian, — and English history 
represent the subjects in which the student is 
obliged to pass examinations before he can enter 
upon the study of the law. 

It is therefore evident that the preparation which 
we are demanding of those who are to become stu- 
dents of law or of medicine is very much inferior 
to the preparation which most nations require. 
The movement, therefore, in American life looking 
to the requiring of a more adequate training of 
those who purpose to enter the study of law or 
medicine represents ia movement on the part of the 
American people for putting itself into relationship 
with the best movements of the best nations. 

The question of the time necessary for securing 
an adequate preparation for professional studies 
is, as I have already intimated, of grave impor- 
tance both to those who propose to become law- 
yers and to those who propose to become doctors. 
But the question of time has larger significance 
for the doctor than for the lawyer. The aver- 

307 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

age age of the graduates of most colleges is be- 
tween twenty-two and twenty -three years. In the 
better law schools the course of study occupies 
three years. In the larger part of the schools it is 
still only two years, and in a very few— and the 
worst — it is only one year. In certain States — as 
Ohio, for instance — three years of the study of law 
are required by statute before the candidate is 
allowed to present himself for admission to the bar. 
The student of law is therefore twenty-six years 
old before he can enter into his professional career. 
But the student who proposes to become a physi- 
cian finds himself at once obliged to spend at least 
one year, and, if he be worthy and of high purpose, 
two or three years more than his legal brother has 
spent. For the course of medical education, in 
all schools of any degree of worthiness, occupies 
four years. If the candidate wish to give to him- 
self the best preparation, on receiving his medical 
degree he spends a year or a year and a half in a 
hospital. If he be still further determined to pos- 
sess himself of the best training, he will spend 
another year or year and a half in European 
schools and hospitals. The best-trained medical 
student has, therefore, usually reached the age of 
twenty-eight or thirty before he begins his profes- 
sional career. 

The question at once emerges : Is the age of 
twenty-eight too old for the doctor, or the age 
of twenty-six too old for the lawyer, to enter into 
life's work? This question suggests a second: 
Too old for what! Is the age too great for the 

308 



of the Twentieth Century 

candidate, or is it too great for the interests of 
American life? The important question is, of 
course, whether the candidate is too old for the in- 
terests of American life. I cannot believe that he 
is. For American life has need of wise counsel- 
ors and directors both in respect to person and 
property. The need of American life is not of 
more lawyers, but of better ones. In the United 
Kingdom there is 1 medical student to 5286 of the 
population ; in France, 1 to 7776 of the population ; 
in Germany, 1 to 5757 of the population ; in the 
United States and Canada there is 1 medical stu- 
dent to 3365 of the population.^ America has, 
speaking in round numbers, twice as many doctors 
as have the older nations of Europe. There is 
hardly a town or city in the United States in which, 
if the number of doctors and lawyers were cut 
down one-half, the one-half could not well and 
without difficulty meet all the requirements of pro- 
fessional service. It would be a distinct advantage 
to American life if the doctors who have graduated 
from the farm or from the grocery store into the 
medical school or if the lawyers who have come 
up — or down — from clerkships in drug stores would 
return to their farms or their counters. Discipline 
as well as culture, training as well as intellect, rep- 
resent elements which every man should possess 
who dares to offer himself as the savior of people's 
property and lives. In all cases of litigation and 
disease no service is too good, no training too fine, 

1 Eeport of the Commissioner of Public Education, 1893-94, Vol. 
I, p. 982. 

309 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

no discrimination too exact. But in unique cases 
the demand for training and wisdom and discrim- 
ination is absolutely imperative. In human life, 
and in what goes along with human life, are the most 
precious material treasures in the natural world. 
Let us, therefore, give to human life the wisest 
skill unto its preservation and enrichment. 

Therefore, for the advantage of American life, 
the age of twenty-eight or thirty is not one whit 
too advanced for the doctor, or the age of twenty- 
six for the lawyer, to begin his professional career. 
But is this age, be it asked, too old for the advan- 
tage of the student himself? The man of thirty 
has, according to the life-insurance tables, 34.43 
years to live. He may, therefore, look forward 
with reason to thirty years of service. Should he 
begin his service four years sooner he would simply 
have four years more for service. Now four years 
are of value. They represent a certain quantity 
of a whole career. But it is to be at once and 
strongly said that to put these four years into en- 
riching the quality of the service which the doctor 
or the lawyer is to render is far better than to de- 
vote them to the extension of the time of that ser- 
vice. It is far better for the practitioner, and also 
for the community, to make the service abler and 
wiser than to make it longer. 

But, of course, it is to be desired that law- 
yers and doctors and clergymen and all men 
should enter their callings at as early an age as 
is right. Let us make the term of service which 
all good men render to humanity as long as it can 

310 



of the Twentieth Centtiry 

be made. For securing this result, however, it is 
more im.portant to improve the education of the 
primary school and the grammar than to abbrevi- 
ate the undergraduate course, strong as may be 
the reasons for this shortening. 

The question, therefore, of the medical school and 
the law school receiving only those who have given 
themselves the advantage of a liberal education is 
a question of profound significance to American 
life. It is also, in particular, a question of gravity 
for every member of the professional Faculty and 
for every member of the Board of Trust which 
manages a school of law or a school of medicine. 
For if the student is to give so large a share of his 
life's time to the preparation for his life's service, 
if he come up to the law school or to the school of 
medicine with powers well trained, with the capacity 
of appreciation large, with his character matured, 
he has a right to demand of the professional school 
that it shall give to him advanta.ges adequate to 
the ripeness, richness, and maturity of his char- 
acter. It is simply absurd for a medical school or 
a law school, such as can be found in many of our 
States, to demand that candidates for admission 
shall have a college training ; for the schools cannot 
offer adequate opportunities to men of these ad- 
vanced attainments. For medical schools, such as 
can be found in many of the great cities of this 
country, to ask that students who are admitted 
shall be liberally educated is quite as absurd as 
for a high school in New York or Boston to re- 
quire that candidates for its junior class shall 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

have already taken a college course. The medical 
college which demands a liberal education from 
candidates for admission should offer as good teach- 
ing in the fundamental branches of anatomy, physi- 
ology, bacteriology, chemistry, histology, materia 
medica, therapeutics, and in special branches, as 
these candidates themselves have received in Latin, 
mathematics, philosophy, German, and history in 
the undergraduate colleges. These schools, fur- 
thermore, should offer the student a fitting scho- 
lastic environment. The medical college should 
offer to him hospitals and clinics having many cases 
and unique, and the law school should put into his 
hands a properly equipped library. 

For schools of medicine and of law to offer the stu- 
dent such opportunities requires, primarily, money 
—and money, too, in large amounts. Professional 
education in this country has not yet received, with 
the exception of theological education, a fitting en- 
dowment. The theological schools of this country 
are now possessed of about $20,000,000 of endow- 
ment, and the value of their buildings and grounds 
is about $12,000,000. Be it said, also, that one- 
half of this amount is found vested in the theolog- 
ical seminaries of the North Atlantic States. Of 
the seminaries of the various churches the Presby- 
terian are the best endowed. About one-fifth of 
the entire amount of endowment funds of churches 
in America are found belonging to the Presbyte- 
rian Church. This endowment allows each profes- 
sorship in these seminaries to have about $40,000 
in case there were an equal division of these funds. 

312 



of the Twentieth Century 

In the Congregational and Episcopal dinrches the 
endowment would be about $35,000 for each chair. 
But the endowment of the medical and law schools 
is so slight that one hesitates to give any figures at 
all. In fact, the endowment is so slight that some 
schools of law and of medicine are unwilling to re- 
veal their poverty. The largest endowment in this 
country belongs to the medical school of Johns 
Hopkins University; the next largest is that of 
Harvard Medical School ; and the next largest, so far 
as reported, is that of Western Reserve University 
Medical College. In a recent year $1,500,000 was 
given to endow professional education in this coun- 
try, and of this sum sixty-three per cent, was given 
to schools of theology, seventeen per cent, to schools 
of medicine, fourteen per cent, to schools of tech- 
nology, and about one per cent, to schools of law. 
For the improvement of professional education in 
medicine and law the American people must give 
of their wealth with a generosity akin to that with 
which they have poured out their millions each 
year to the undergraduate colleges. The great 
need of American life at the present time is better- 
trained doctors and better-trained lawyers. This 
need can be met only by the rich endowment of 
schools for the training of doctors and lawyers ; 
for it is only such schools, well endowed and well 
equipped, that can worthily and fittingly ask men 
of a liberal education to become their students. 
The next movement in the endowment of American 
education should be directed toward the schools of 
law and the schools of medicine. 

3U 



Administrative and Scholastic Problems 

For the solution of all tliese administrative and 
scholastic questions the nineteenth century will 
transmit to the new age one condition which will 
prove to be of value simply priceless. It is the 
public and special interest in education. Educa- 
tion has come to be recognized as one of the 
elemental and fundamental forces in life. It has 
always been an elemental and fundamental force, 
but it has not always been recognized as such. 
It now takes its deserved place with the greatest. 
It may now be said that it has become a stronger 
force than the church, of which it was formerly 
a function. The schoolmaster is indeed abroad. 
He was formerly abroad on foot ; he is now abroad 
in the saddle ; he is a commander and director and 
leader. In no department of life has there been a 
larger increase of enthusiasm or a nobler develop- 
ment of interest or an adoption of wiser methods. 
Such a condition represents the best force for the 
solution of the problems which the old century 
gives to the new. 



514 



INDEX 



INDEX 



Academic freedom, value of, 90 

Academy during work of Freshman 
year, 292 

Adelbert College of Western Reserve 
University, appointment of pro- 
fessors, 25, 26 

Administration, college, special con- 
ditions and methods of, 85 

Administrative problems of college 
in twentieth century, 261 

Age of students, 8, 307 

Alabama, University of, allusion to, 
119 

Alumni associations, 39 

Alumni in relation to fraternities, 103, 
104 

Amen, Principal, quotation from, 
292, 293 

American life, need of, 277 

Amherst College, system of fines in, 
117 ; aid for students, 205 

Andover Theological Seminary, 235 

Andrews, President, resignation of, 
94 

Antioch College, Horace Mann at, 146 

Arnold, Matthew, quotation from, 
277 

Austin, Edward, allusion to, 173, 214 

Baird, William E., quotation from 
"American College Fraternities," 
105 

Baldwin, Simeon E., quotation from, 
64 

Balfour, F. M., allusion to, 286 

Barnard, President, allusion to, 73 

Beers, Professor H. A., quotation 
from, 99 

Benefactions made by women, 170, 
171 

Benevolence, motives to, 178 ; con- 
ditional, 186 ; forms of, 213 

Bowdoin College, aid for students, 205; 
location of, 253 

Briggs, Dean, of Harvard, quotation 
from, 98, 99 



Brown University, appointment of 
professors, 24 ; aid for students, 205 
Bryn Mawr College, allusion to, 244 
Buchtel College, location of, 253 
Bureau of Education, allusion to, 1 ; 
extracts from Reports of, 300, 302, 
304, 309 



California, University of, appoint- 
ment of professors, 28; allusion to 
property of, 162; beneficences to, 
178 ; Regents, 41 
Cambridge, city of, seat of, 246, 248 
Cambridge (England) University, gov- 
ernment of, 43 ; property of, 166, 167 
Carnegie, Andrew, allusion to, 172, 

174 
Carter, President, reference to life of 

Mark Hopkins by, 127 
Cattell, President, of Lafayette, allu- 
sion to, 66 
Charity Commissioners, English, 233 
Chicago, University of, appointment 
of professors, 26 ; foundation of, 176 
Clap, President, allusion to, 236 
Clergymen as college officers, 34 
Colby College, allusion to, 70, 179 
College, three types of, 15 ; constitu- 
tion of, 21 ; difference of, from a 
university, 96 ; integrity of, 292 
College course, shortening of, 2 3 
Colonial Government, studies in, 272 
Columbia University, appointment 
of professors, 24, 25; aid for stu- 
dents, 205 
Conditional benevolence, 186 
Connecticut laws of freedom from 

taxation, 241, 242 
Constitution, of different States on 

freedom from taxation, 240 
Constitution of the college, 21 
Cornell, Ezra, allusion to, 174 
Cornell University, reserve fund of, 
163, 164; aid for students, 205; pro- 
fessional spirit in, 273 



3^1 



Index 



Dartmouth College, appointment of 
professors, 24; of trustees, 40; aid 
for students, 205 
Day, President, of Yale, characteriza- 
tion of, 78 
Differentiation in education, 293, 294 
Dormitories in relation to taxation, 

244, 245 
Drexel Institute, allusion to, 172 
Dudley, Paul, will of, 235 
Dunster, President, allusion to, 49 
Dwight, President, judgment of, 29, 39 
Dwight, President (elder), allusion 
to, 50 

Economics, value of study of, 272, 280 

Educated leadership, need of, 183 

Education, Bureau of, 1 

Education, liberal, value of, to pro- 
fessional students, 302 

Education, organization of, 1; differ- 
entiation in, 293 ; public interest in, 
314 

Elective system of studies, 268 

EUot, President, Report of 1874-75, 8 ; 
allusion to, 65; quotation from, 72, 
194 ; opinion expressed by, 158 

Endowment, amount of, 155 ; made by 
lotteries, 163 ; misuse of, 165 ; origin 
and conditions of, 169 ; made by those 
not graduates, 173 ; useless though 
well meant, 223 ; need of, in medical 
and law schools, 311 

English benevolence, charitable and 
domestic, 234 

English Charity Commissioners, 233 

English education, 3, 4 

English, value of study of, 272, 281, 
282 

Everett, Edward, allusion to, 38 

Faculty, nature and work of, 22, 23, 29 

Pawcett, Henry, allusion to, 71 

Payerweather, D. B., allusion to, 172, 
173, 177 

Finch, Judge F. M., quotation from, 
175, 176 

Fines, pecimiary, 115 

Fisher, Professor George P., quota- 
tion from, 76, 77 

Foxwell, Professor, 8t. John's Col- 
lege, quotation from, 95, 96 

France, professional training in, 306, 
307 

Fraternity, 99 

Freedom from taxation, 240 

Freedom in college, 90, 149 



Friendship in college, 103 

Georgia, University of, 196 
Germany, education in, 4; profes- 
sional training in, 306, 307 
GUman, President, quotation from, 2, 

3,208 
Gladstone, W. E., allusion to, 286 
Good-fellowship, value of, in college, 

101 
Gordon, General, memorial to, 181 
Government, Colonial, studies in, 272 
Government of students, 113 
Graduate School, position of, 98, 99, 
286, 287 

Hallam, Arthur, allusion to, 102, 286 

Hamilton College, allusion to, 163 

Happiness of college officers and stu- 
dents, value of, 88 

Harper, President W. R., allusion to, 
55 ; quotation from, 165 

Harvard College, clubs in, 99 ; early 
government of students, 113 ; rebel- 
lion in, 120 ; proportion of students 
from different schools, 134; "Ad- 
visers " at, 138 ; property of, 158, 159 ; 
increase of property of, 166 ; aid for 
students, 205; Dudleyan foundation, 
235, 236; exemption from taxation, 
243, 248 ; elective system, 268 ; doc- 
tors of philosophy at, 287 

Hinsdale, Professor B. A., compen- 
diums by, 167 

History, value of study of, 272, 280, 
281 

Hitchcock, Professor K. D., allusion 
to, 177 

Hopkins, President Mark, wisdom of, 
127 

niinois. University of, appointment 
of professors, 26, 27 ; of trustees, 40 
Income spent in two forms, 164 
Indigent students, aid to, 199; loans 
to, 215 ; principles about giving, 222, 
223 
Individuality, principle of, 262 
Investments, forms of, 157; regular 
income from, 158 ; good character of, 
161 ; for indigent students, 199 

Johns Hopkins University, appoint- 
ment of professors, 25 

Jordon, President D. 8., quotation 
from, 72, 73 

Judgment, good, value of, 183 



318 



Index 



Justice, importance of, to American 
people, 303 

Kansas, University of, appointment 

of professors, 27 
Keane, Eight Eev. Bishop, 236 
Kenny, C. 8., quotations from, 223, 228 
Kings] ey, W. L., references to history 

of Yale College, 77, 78 
Kipling, Eudyard, allusion to, 288 
Kirbland, President, allusion to, 50 

Ladd, Professor G. T., ctuotations 

from, 11 
Lawrence, Abbott, letter to, 197, 198 
Lawrence, Amos, letter from, 197, 198 
Law schools, 297 

Leadership, educated, need of, 183, 285 
Library college, object of benevolence, 

191 
Loans to students, 215 ; rules about 

making, 220 
Lotteries as a method ol endowing 

colleges, 163 
Low, President Seth, allusion to, 74; 

quotation from, 192 
Loyalty to college, value of, 87 

Maine, laws of, on taxation of college 

property, 255, 256 
Mann, Horace, work of, at Antioch 

CoUege, 146 
Massachusetts General Hospital, suit 

of, 247 

Massachusetts Institute of Technolo- 
gy, allusion to, 214 

Massachusetts, laws of, on freedom 
from taxation, 241 

Mathematics, value of, in training, 
279 

McCay, Charles P., Fund, 196, 197 

McCosh, President, allusion to, 55, 73 

Medical schools, 297 

Memorial motive in benevolence, 179 

Mill, John Stuart, quotation from, 
238, 239 

Minnesota, University of, appoint- 
ment of professors, 27, 28; of Ee- 
gents, 41 

Money, good and evil of, 178, 179 

Morley, Professor E. W., allusion to, 
74 

Motives to benevolence, 178 

Nebraska, University of, appoint- 
ment of professors, 27 ; of Eegents, 41 
Need, financial, relative term, 211 



Newman, J. T., quotation from, 72, 73, 
158, 159 

New York laws on freedom from taxa- 
tion, 242 

Normal schools, 14 

Northwestern University, exemption 
of, from taxation, 243, 250 

Norton, Andrews, allusion to, 38 

Nott, President E., allusion to, 129 

Ohio, laws of, on taxation of college 
property, 242, 250 

Organization of education in United 
States, 1 

" Oxford, Aspects of Modern," quota- 
tion from, 44 

Oxford University, government of, 
43 ; property of, 166, 167 

Parsons College, location of, 253 
Pattison, Mark, allusion to, 68, 69 
Peabody, George, allusion to, 172 
Pearsons, Dr. D. K,, allusion to, 174 
Peirce, Benjamin, suit of, versus Cam- 
bridge, 246 
Peirce, B. O., allusion to, 74 
Pennsylvania, University of, appoint- 
ment of professors, 25; of trustees, 
40 ; aid for students, 205 
Pepper, Provost, allusion to, 66, 75, 76 
Personality of teacher, 5 
Personality, worth of, 66, 103 
Phi Beta Kappa, 108 
Phillips Academy, Andover, quota- 
tion from constitution of, 212 
Phillips Exeter Academy, quotation 

from principal of, 292, 293 
Philosophy, value of, in training, 283 
Physician, public trustee, 305, 306 
Porter, President, quotation from, 30, 

31, 34-36 
Pratt Institute, allusion to, 172 
President, the college, types of, 49; 
as an administrator, 53 ; as a finan- 
cier, 53 ; holding relations with Fac- 
ulty, Trustees, students, alumni, 
people, 55 ; coijperation of, 62 ; as a 
leader, 64; personality of, 66 ; in re- 
lation to whole educational system, 
67 ; independence of, 68 ; as a judge 
of men, 71 ; as a scholar, 73 ; com- 
manding public confidence, 74 ; as a 
trustee for the people, 75; wisdom 
of, 77, 78; satisfaction of being, 78 
Price Greenleaf Aid Fund, 211, 214 
Princeton University, source of Ses- 



319 



Index 



Quicentennial Fund of, 177 ; aid for 
students, 205 

Professional sciiool in relation to col- 
lege, 292 

Professional scliools, of law, medicine, 
tteology, 297 

Professional students, 297 

Professors, metliods of appointment, 
23; as college governors, 38; liappi- 
ness of, 88, 89 

Quincy, President Josiai, allusion to, 
49 ; quotation from, 114 ; reference 
to "History of Harvard University," 
236 

Eebellions, college, 118 
Eights, natural, of students, 118 
Eolbinson, President, allusion to, 51 
Eochester University, allusion to, 155, 

159 
Eockefeller, John D., aUusion to, 186 
Eogers, President W. B., quotation 

from, 70 

Sage, H. W., allusion to, 175, 176, 191 
Salaries of college officers, 164, 165 
Scholastic questions of twentieth cen- 
tury, 261 
Science, value of, in training, 278, 279 
Scientific schools, 291 
Scott, Walter, allusion to, 286, 288 
Seelye, President J. H., quotation 

from, 104 
Sewall, Judge, quotation from his 

diary, 113 
Sheffield Scientific School, allusion to 

gift to, 198 
Slocuni, President, allusion to, 75 
Smith, Adam, quotation from, 225 
Smith College, allusion to, 244 
Somerville, city of, suit of, 247 
Stanford, Leland, University, endow- 
ment of, 177, 178 
State, each an educational unit, 1 
Stephen, Leslie, quotation from, 71 
Students, indigent, aid to, 199 ; loans 
to, 215 ; principles ahout giving, 222, 
223 
Students, unit of education, 4 ; age of, 
8 ; happiness of, 89, 90 ; government 
of, 113 ; freedom of, 149 ; supervision 
of, 295, 296 
Studies, law of returns of, 266; in 
English, economics, history, 272 ; 
divisions of, 278 



Sturtevant, President J. M., quota- 
tion from, 206, 207 

Supervision of students greater in 
preparatory school, 295, 296 

Tappan, President, allusion to, 66 

Taxation, freedom from, 240 

Teacher, personality of, 5; training 
of, 12; importance of vitality of, 
288 

Theological schools, 297 

Time, value of, to professional stu- 
dents, 307 

Trustees, nature and wort of hoards 
of, 21 

Tucker, President, quotation from, 40 

Tulane University, allusion to, 155 

Turgot, allusion to, 224 

Twentieth century, educational prob- 
lems of, 261 

Tyler's " History of Amherst College," 
quotations from, 104, 118 

Union Theological Seminary, allusion 
to. 172 

Unit of education, the student, 4 

Unity, value of, in college, 85; prin- 
ciple of, 262 

Universities, English, government of, 
43 ; property of, 166, 167 

Universities, German, government 
of, 45 ; resources of, 167 

University, difference of, from a col- 
lege, 96 

Vassar College, first president of, 65; 

allusion to, 244 
Virginia, University of, rebellion in, 

124 
Vitality in the teacher, 288 

Wabash College, allusion to, 157 
Wallace, G. R., quotation from, 107 
Ware, Henry, allusion to, 38 
Waring, George E., allusion to, 181 
Washington and Lee University, 159 
Wayland, President, allusion to, 50, 

75 
Webster, Professor, of Clark Univer- 
sity, 74 
Wellesley College, allusion to, 244 
Wesleyan Academy, Wilbraham, suit 

of, 247 
Wesleyan University, allusion to, 155 
Western Eeserve University, appoint- 
ment of professors, 25, 26 
Wilbraham, town of, suit of, 247 



320 



Index 



William and Mary College, Phi Beta Wood.President, of Bo wdoin, allusion 

Kappa at, 108 to, 73 

Williams College, appointment of pro- Woolsey, President T. D., quotation 

fessors, 23, 24 ; of Trustees, 39 ; rebel- from, 78 ; allusion to, 282 

lion in, 125; suit of, 247, 248 
Williamstown, town of, suit of, 248 Yale University, appointment of pro- 
Wisconsin, University of, appoint- fessors, 23 ; of Trustees, 39 ; purpose 

ment of professors, 27 ; of Regents, of foundation, 76, 77 ; clubs in, 99 ; 

40, 41 rebellions in, 120 ; increase of funds 

Witherspoon, President, allusion to, of, 165 ; aid for students, 205 ; gifts 

74 to reflect contemporary conditions, 

Women, college benefactors, 170, 171 236 



321 




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